


Don't let the morning take it

by lobstergirl



Series: Of Hope and Strength [2]
Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Everything, First Love, First Time, M/M, Matt is NOT Kylo Ren, Techienician, not lonely anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lobstergirl/pseuds/lobstergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s tired of running. He’s run so much in his life already but here he is, running again. Then someone grabs his shoulders and he’s pulled out of harm’s way.</p><p>It’s <em>him.</em></p><p>And it turns out that not only have they managed to notice each other which is a small miracle in itself, given that this place is made of 392 levels… no, they’ve both asked around to find out more about the other for it doesn’t happen every day that tall, brawny men smile at skinny, scrawny creatures just so; and it doesn’t happen every day that slim, slender men look at hulking, brooding oafs like so.</p><p>But one day, they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve grown so fond of this wee ship that I had to try my hand at writing Matt and Techie… and although this bit here contains spoilers to a fic I’m currently working on, I didn’t want to wait for much longer… it begged to be uploaded before its time. At this point in time I don’t think it’ll be a massive, connected novel-like thing but more of a compilation of random snapshots in the lives of one shy and timid Techie and one shy and awkward radar technician. 
> 
> Let’s see how it all goes.

He’s tired of running. He’s run so much in his life already but here he is, running again. Trapped in the middle of a crowd running for their miserable lives. Just as he is. Only, he’s done nothing wrong. Not knowingly, that is. Not this time. He would never have ventured down to Port Town's Level 130 if the ‘ _you’ll do that for me, little Techie, won’t you_ ’ that went with the request – summons. order. whatever. non-declinable in any case. – had not scared him so much. The serrated blade immediately pressed against his belly when he sits down to figure out the faulty bits brings back memories he doesn’t care all that much about, and so he’s looking into a malfunctioning system he’s not supposed to be looking into when the masked men storm in.

Fortunately, he’s not far from the back door and he runs with the others the moment the knife drops away.

He’s not a very good runner and so he stumbles. Of course he does. Slithers, loses his balance, falls. Curls himself into a ball, tries to protect his head with his hands, desperately hoping not to be kicked into a pulp by the countless feet trampling past him, around him and, oh, over him.

Then someone grabs his shoulders and he shrieks and struggles but he’s mercilessly and effortlessly hauled up and pulled around a corner into a nook, and when he finally stops shrieking and struggling, he realises he’s being pressed against a very broad chest and the arms around him are steadying, not strangling. He risks a glance up and almost goes limp with relief.

It’s _him_. He has no idea what _he_ is doing down here but stars, is he ever thankful.

He has just summoned all of his courage to mumble a _thank you_ into the greyish-green overall when a big hand clamps down on his mouth.

“Quiet,” the other man hisses. “This is a blind spot. They can’t see us from over there. Maybe we’re lucky.”

And so they stand, pressed close to one other, and wait. The man’s hand leaves Techie’s mouth and goes to his head instead, pulling it against his chest while his other arm tightens his grip around Techie’s shoulders. There’s screams, there’s the sounds of blaster weapons being fired and Techie holds very still, hardly daring to breathe. But his arms go around the man’s waist, very carefully, as if they have a mind of their own.

Silence falls. Well, almost silence. There’s moans and groans and grunts, and then –

“The Enforcer,” the man breathes into Techie’s hair. “It’s the Enforcer himself.”

Techie shakes his head and buries his face deeper in the man’s overall. He doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want to hear. He’s heard much of the General and his Enforcer and most of what he’s heard is unpleasant. But what he hears next makes him raise his head and stare at the man in utter disbelief. It can’t be. Or can it? The man’s eyes widen behind his old-fashioned glasses and he shakes his head, appearing just as dumbfounded as Techie feels because what they both hear is the low, buzzing sound of a… lightsabre?  

Then it is over. Just like that.

When Techie’s peeked around the corner to see if they’re good to go – he does it although he’s scared because let’s face it, his bionic eyes are sharper than the man’s bespectacled, short-sighted ones – they hurry back to the turbolift, careful not to step on anything – anyone, careful not to slip and fall. They ride up to Level 210 and they stand very close. Again.

“So it is true then,” the man says. “I heard rumours about the Enforcer but they’re not rumours, are they. It’s actually true. He’s a Force warrior.” He sounds excited. “Some even say he’s a Grey Jedi.” He makes a triumphant gesture with his fist. “I knew it. I _knew_ there were still some of them left. I mean, the universe is so… big, there’s no way they could have gotten to them all.”

Techie stares at the hollow of the man’s throat. He can see his pulse and wonders if his skin is as warm as it looks. He frowns, confused and a little embarrassed. This is not the time to think of that.

“Just imagine this place being rid of the scum that’s been gagging it for years. Imagine the implant branches being opened again.” The lift door opens with a hiss and the man gestures for him to get out. “Imagine the work that’s to be done there! And who knows, maybe one day the General finds out what you can do and has you transferred to command bridge.”

“The General?” It comes out as barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah, why not? He’ll have it all cleaned up soon and then he’ll have to get everything back into working order. He will need someone like you around, someone who knows the consoles and the systems. Everybody says you’re the best.”

“Really?”

“Yes. When I asked –” he breaks off and his right ear that sticks out from underneath his yellowish hair turns bright red.

It then dawns on Techie that the man – this tall, handsome, _strong_ man – must have asked around to find out about him, and he blinks. And blinks again. He feels the corners of his mouth curve. Just a little. It feels nice. He looks up. Stands up a bit straighter under the warm glow in the man’s brown eyes and finds he’s not an awful lot shorter than him. He’s just so used to hunching his shoulders and lowering his gaze that he feels a lot shorter when really, he’s not.

“You’re tall,” the man says, as if he has heard his thoughts. “I like that. Don’t make yourself smaller. I’m Matt, by the way.”

“I know,” Techie whispers. Heat creeps up his neck and he’s sure the colour of his face matches the colour of Matt’s ear.

“You do?” Matt frowns, confused. Then his face lights up. “Of course you do. There’s nothing you can’t find out.” He beams at him. “So, uh, where are your quarters?”

Techie doesn’t want to return to his quarters that are two levels down. He’d rather remain here for another moment, with Matt who is so excited about having seen the Enforcer and who believes that everything will change for the better. But it would be rude not to answer.

“Level 212.” He looks at his feet again, then back up at Matt’s face. “That’s two levels down,” he adds. Not exactly a sharp thing to say but Matt solemnly nods.

“That’s right,” he replies and busies himself with his glasses, adjusting and readjusting them. Then he offers, “Would you like me to take you there? In case… you know.”

Techie does not know but he nods.

“That would be nice,” he says and hopes the mad fluttering of his heart isn’t visible.

And so Matt rides down two floors with him and walks him to the door of the tiny hole that is officially called ‘single quarters’ and here they linger a little while longer. And another while. And just a tiny bit more.

 

When Matt leaves for work the next morning, he finds a small figurine sitting next to his door. It’s made from damaged wiring and it looks like a man with a sword in his hand.

He smiles and tucks it carefully into one of the front pockets of his overall. The top left one that sits over his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh my stars,” Matt breathes. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks up from the datapad he’s holding. “Where did you find this?”

Techie shrugs. There is no system he can’t hack into. Some are more challenging than others, but eventually, he cracks them all. He doesn’t even know how he does it. The moment the initial screen pops up and his fingers touch the keys, that’s when he knows which codes to enter, which programming language to choose, where to start digging and what to avoid. That’s what attracted Ma-Ma… but he doesn’t want to go there. Not ever again.

“The General wasn’t hard to identify,” he says in reply to Matt’s question. “I used a surveillance camera shot to run a search on him and had a result within seconds. The Enforcer, now he was a bit trickier but I think I finally got him.”

“A Knight of Ren, huh.”

“Their Master, most likely,” Techie points out. “A Force user, just like you said, Matt.”

“Yeah, well, I was just repeating a rumour but you,” Matt lowers the datapad and looks at Techie with such admiration in his brown eyes that Techie’s heart starts to beat just a little faster, “you have found the facts. You’re a genius, that’s what you are.”

Techie feels his face grow hot. No-one has ever looked at him the way Matt does. As if he is something special. But he’s not. He’s just a computer technician with a knack for finding things. Matt, on the other hand, does real, actual work. Work that keeps the systems of this gigantic city running, and he goes places Techie wouldn’t dare go. He’s not afraid, Matt. But he doesn’t have to be because he’s so very strong. Techie remembers exactly what those big arms felt like when they closed around him. How comforting it had been, to be held like that.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles and rubs at a stain on his trouser leg, just above the knee. “It’s just a matter of the right search criteria, s’all.”

“It’s not nothing,” Matt hands the datapad back to Techie. “I would never have found out, not in a hundred years. I fix things, but you, you find things.”

“I didn’t find a picture of him without his mask on, and I didn’t find out his name.”

“But you will. Sooner or later, you will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re clever, that’s why. I don’t understand why you’ve never worked above level two hundred twenty. Isn’t all of this –,” he makes a vague gesture that indicates their surroundings, “terribly boring?”

Well, in fact it is. But it’s a peaceful boring. Meaning: he passes unnoticed. Most of the time.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind it.”

“I really think you should apply for a job in one of the upper levels.” He nudges him with his shoulder. They sit next to each other on the ground on Level 85 where Matt has just finished re-calibrating a faulty exhaust system. Techie is due to run a manual update on a group of outdated network computers on the same level but isn’t expected at the workstation for another twenty minutes which has given them time to meet for a chat and a quick bite.

It’s become a little routine of theirs, those quick meetings, and it’s something that Techie has begun looking forward to because someone actually makes time to see him and that makes him feel wanted. Not wanted for his computer skills but for his company. His _company_. The fact that this someone is a very handsome blond radar technician by the name of Matt with shoulders and chest so wide that Techie could wrap his whole slender frame into this Matt-blanket… well, that makes it even sweeter.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling especially daring, Techie finds himself dreaming about spending just a little more time with Matt, maybe even an entire day. He pictures them roaming the endless corridors of this vast place, maybe even explore some of the upper levels where there’s supposed to be wondrous areas for recreation, indoor gardens with real flowers, restaurants with proper tables and all kinds of food to choose from.

He steals a glance to his left.

“I’ve never been to the upper levels,” he ventures.

Matt frowns and starts pecking at his food as if it has somehow annoyed him. Or have Techie’s words annoyed him? He rubs at the stain again, nervous. Next to him, Matt chews. It sounds angry. Techie starts shrinking back into himself, clutches his thighs.

“You know,” Matt finally says and he doesn’t sound angry at all. Techie unshrinks a little. “I’ve been working on one of the outside antennae and I’m having a hard time steadying the system. I think the warm-up time is a little long but I can’t figure out why that is. Would you, uhm –,” he pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clears his throat, “I was wondering if you’d take a look. To see if I’ve made a mistake somewhere along the, uh, uploading of the… update.”

“But I know nothing about –,” Techie starts but then he notices Matt’s right ear has turned quite red and he seems suddenly very busy brushing crumbs off his sleeve. Only, he’s been eating some kind of salad dish. Salad doesn’t crumble. Does it? He cautiously peers at Matt’s salad. Nothing crumbly in it. Then it dawns on him. Is Matt asking him –? For a moment, he forgets to breathe.

“Of course, if you’ve got more important stuff to do, I’d understand,” Matt mumbles into his salad and stabs at something orange. “It’s probably a waste of your time anyway.”

“Yes!” Techie blurts out. Matt looks at him, hurt, and he hastily corrects himself. “I mean, no, not at all! Not a waste of time, I mean. I’d love to take a look at it. Maybe I can help. But isn’t it dangerous, working on an antenna?”

“No, it’s not. At least, not unless you actually climb all the way to the top. But you won’t have to.” Matt puts the salad bowl on the floor. It tips over because he’s set it on the shoulder strap of his tool box and some of its contents spills out when he turns to face Techie, pushing the box aside with the movement. He doesn’t notice. His eyes are huge and bright behind his glasses. “The screen and keyboard and all are in the engineering room at the bottom. But I could take you halfway up, if you’re interested. The climb isn’t too hard and I would secure you to me so you won’t fall. And the view is fantastic, even from there.”

Techie chews his lower lip. Climbing an antenna doesn’t sound all that attractive, but the thought of being _secured_ to Matt’s solid frame does have its appeal. And so he swallows the tinge of fear that lurks right there, ready to pounce, and nods.

“Good. I’ll do it.”

Matt’s face lights up and his smile is so bright that it warms Techie from inside out.

“Would the day after tomorrow be good? I could work double shifts tomorrow and then get off duty a little earlier the next day,” Matt eagerly says. “To make sure the engineering room is, uhm, accessible.”

“Sure. Just tell me where to be, and when.”

“I’ll pick you up. It’s a little tricky getting there and you’ll need clearance, too.”

“But I –,” Techie stops himself, again. Now is not the time to tell Matt that he knows how to override pretty much every security system. Or that he won’t need a guide because he knows his way around this place. Matt has made it his business to take him where he needs to be after they’ve met because Matt seems to think he’s worth looking after, and so he smiles and nods.

“I would like that. Thank you.”

 

After Matt has taken him to the workstation where he’s expected, they both find it extra difficult to say their good-byes for the day. Techie’s ushered to the console by a medium-sized humanoid being with large compound eyes but before he sits down, he turns around to see if Matt has already left. He hasn’t. He’s still standing by the door and when their eyes meet, he raises his hand and gives a little wave. Techie waves back and immediately ducks his head. He can feel heat creep up his neck and he doesn’t want anybody to see and possibly make a connection.

But the warmth in his chest, well, that stays with him for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt stands behind Techie and watches in fascination as the other man’s fingers fly over the keyboard. They’re in the engineering room of one of the eastern outside antennae and Techie is looking at the system that won’t start quick enough. There really is a problem with the warm-up time, Matt hasn’t made that up. Just, it’s not really a major problem, not yet, it all works as it should and this area is classified as non-critical anyway.

Still, it’s quite something to watch from up close as Techie works his magic. Of course Matt knows how to use computers and he is familiar with the current systems; certainly with the ones he needs for his job but also with the most common ones needed to run his private equipment. Matt’s hulking presence and sullen expression tend to lead others to believe he cannot spell words that have more than two syllables but in fact he has begun studying advanced electronics engineering technology about half a standard year ago, to add to the degree he already has. His grades are good and there’s no reason to doubt he’ll finish in time.

But this here? What Techie does? Matt blinks as tables and incomprehensible codes and graphs flicker across the screen with a speed that screams _headache_. He has no idea what all of this means but he knows that he could happily stand here and look at Technie’s nimble fingers forever. Or at his fascinating eyes. They dart from left to right, from top to bottom and Matt wonders if they’re somehow connected to the system. Wireless transmission or something. It sure looks like it. He’d like to find out more about the bionic eyes but he’s come to understand it’s something that cannot be addressed. Not ever. Techie will absolutely not speak about anything that’s happened to him before he’s come here and Matt respects that. Sadly, that involves his name, too. Techie goes by the name of Techie and that seems to be the end of it.

Then the flickering on the screen slows down, as do the fingers on the keyboard.

“Here,” Techie says and looks up. “All set. It’s more of a general problem. There’s been repair work here and there but nobody’s made sure all stations work with the same software versions. I’ve seen it before, it’s everywhere. There’s outdated equipment that won’t run the latest versions, but why bother updating as long as it works?” He shrugs. “It’s all still fairly stable but an overall system inspection wouldn’t hurt.”

“But you’ve found the problem with this one?”

“Of course I have,” Techie says, a little smug. Matt decides smug Techie is delightful. “I’ve downloaded the latest software version and security patches into the system of this antenna and into the neighbouring three as well. I hope that’s alright for you. It will make your work a little easier.” He activates the screen’s idle mode with a few keystrokes and gets up.

“So,” he says and scratches his left forearm.

“So,” Matt echoes.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, then Matt clears his throat.

“Would you, uhm, would you like to see the antenna now? Or would you rather do something else?”

“Something else?”

It’s obvious neither has thought of an alternative and Matt really, really hopes Techie wants to climb up the antenna with him. It’s relatively nice outside and they should have a clear view over a big part of the city. He even has brought climbing gear for Techie and has spent quite some time last night fantasising about strapping him into the harness and feeling the slender frame press against his own as they make their way up the ladder. And that has led to quite another fantasy which has led to some mindless blanket-humping which then has led to frantically pumping into his fist – ah, better not go there right now, not with Techie standing within an arm’s length, eyes expectantly fixed on Matt’s face. He doesn’t want to come across cock-driven because he isn’t. Well, it’s not that he wouldn’t mind – _damn_.

“I mean, if you don’t want to climb, I can understand. It’s just – well, I thought…” he starts stammering, hating himself for it. He may not be a naturally out-going person but he’s not shy either. But something about this very slim ginger man and his huge blue eyes and soft voice slows his brain down and makes him feel very clumsy, and so he looks down and shifts from one foot to the other.

“Oh but I would love to see the antenna from up close,” comes the reply he’s been hoping for. It’s delivered a little shyly and maybe there’s even been a small pause, but surely Techie wouldn’t lie to him just to do him a favour? He gives him a sharp look, but Techie nods, affirmative. “And you said the view would be good, too.”

“Yes, and it should be especially good today. I’m not sure if you can see all the way down to Bespin, but you will definitely see the Royal Park from there.”

He reaches for his bag and digs out the climbing gear. Techie cocks his head and eyes the assortment of tangled ropes and hooks but when Matt shakes the construction and the tangled mass becomes a harness, the confusion vanishes from his face and he looks relieved.

“That’s to secure me, yes?”

“That’s right,” Matt confirms and steps into his own gear to show him how it’s done. His harness is a lighter version of the one he has borrowed for Techie; lighter in terms of less padded and less… harnessy. It’s the one he uses for work and he doesn’t need quite that many straps and pads to hold him in place.

When Techie asks for his help with the straps and hooks – it looks a lot easier than it is, at least for a beginner –, he pushes last night’s fantasies into a very far corner of his mind and kneels down to help him sort out what goes where, detaching himself from the fact that certain straps go around the thighs just so and frame the buttocks just so, and kriffing hell but Techie has a tiny waist! When all sits as it should, he hands him a pair of gloves.

“Is it that windy? I thought we’re only going halfway up.” Techie looks at Matt who notices, for the first time, that Techie’s lashes are very long and very pale and so very lovely, too. Such a perfect frame for his unusual, beautiful eyes. Which reminds him – he rummages around in his bag and then holds up a pair of safety goggles.

“For your eyes,” Matt explains, as if goggles need explaining. “Your eyes need special protection, I think.”

“Oh,” Techie says, very softly. “Thank you.” He puts the goggles on and adjust them, then moves his head from left to right, as if to make sure they fit just right.

“Here’s a helmet, too.”

“Matt!” Techie protests. “I’m not made from glass, you know.”

“I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” Matt says earnestly. “Please put it on. Please. For me.”

“Alright.”

Is that a _pout_?

And then it’s time to start the climb. Matt demonstrates how to best place hands and feet on the rungs and Techie catches on surprisingly quickly for someone who isn’t used to climbing. When they reach the end of the wide ladder, Matt signals to stop and fastens their snap hooks to the security loops, then positions himself sideways behind Techie, hooks his left leg around the rail for additional balance like he’s done so many times before. Whatever raunchy fantasies his mind may have come up with the other night – pardon the pun –, they come to a screeching halt the moment Techie settles against his chest. There’s nothing remotely suggestive about the way his back seeks contact with Matt. Rather, it’s a gesture of utter trust, like leaning back against a wall for shelter, trusting the wall will not crumble.

Matt presses his outer leg against Techie’s and encircles him with his arms, as if to say ‘I got you’, and the sigh that’s barely audible against the wind that whips around their faces warms him from inside out. There’s something about this man that makes Matt want to wrap him up in a warm blanket and bring him sweets and hot tea and protect him but it has nothing to do with his slender body and pale, pale skin. No, it’s more to do with the shy little smiles that flicker across his face every now and then and the small sounds he makes, like that sigh just now or that funny, tuneless humming when he’s concentrating. And it certainly has to do with the haunted expression in his eyes. Matt doesn’t understand how artificial eyes can even transport emotion but Techie’s can.

He points out various sights – “there’s the landing docks, over there, see? And if you look down there, that’s the Royal Park.” – and Techie all but crows with delight when he detects Kerros Tower. He twists his upper body around to look at Matt.

“I was there last week,” he says, excited. “They had a problem with their time recording software. Piece of cake, really, but then I heard there’s something wrong with the main traffic control system and if that doesn’t get fixed soon there’s going to be a massive problem. I so wanted to take a look but of course they wouldn’t let me.”

“That’s because they’re stupid,” Matt replies. “They don’t recognise brilliant when it’s right before their eyes.”

“Don’t,” Techie mumbles. “Why do you always say things like that?”

Matt can’t hear a word but figures it out by reading Techie’s lips. His very pretty lips, so kissable and at the exact height and angle for him to reach, too, and Matt has to close his eyes for a moment to rid himself of the temptation right there in front of him…

… and yanks them open again when he feels Techie lose balance. He catches him before anything happens, hauls him up with his right arm and crushes him close. Techie stares at him from behind his goggles, wide-eyed and frightened. His mechanical pupils dilate and narrow, dilate and narrow. Matt can almost hear the whirring. But it’s Techie’s lips that draw his attention once more, now more so than a moment before because now, they’re slightly parted. That alone is bad enough but then a pink tongue darts out and wets them in what is probably a nervous gesture and Matt wishes he could unsee what he has just seen but he can’t and to his utter mortification he gets hard. Given how their bodies are plastered against one another, there’s not even the slightest chance Techie doesn’t notice because when Matt gets hard, well, he gets hard. There’s no way to hide it, especially not with his harness strapped on. _Don’t think harness and straps now, you fucking idiot._

Too late.

Techie’s eyes widen and Matt hastily pulls back, trying to twist his lower body as far away as possible.

“I think my hands are getting cold,” Techie says. There’s something in his eyes that Matt can’t place and he begins to descend, placing his feet and hands exactly as Matt has shown him earlier. They’re still attached to the security loops and Matt hastily unfastens their hooks, then follows him, their bodies still close but at least no longer touching.

When they reach the bottom, Matt helps Techie unclasp the buckles and hooks and step out of the harness. He turns away when he gets rid of his own set and smoothes his hands over his overall, grateful that he’s not so terribly obvious anymore. Why on earth has he not changed into a decent pair of trousers and a nice, loose shirt and jacket when he stepped out of the fresher after his shift ended? Because he was too kriffing fidgety, that’s why. Didn’t want to waste valuable time going through his clothes, that’s why.

He enters the access code into the panel by the door to the engineering room and storms inside as soon as it clicks open without so much as a glance in Techie’s direction. He’s so angry that he feels like slamming his fists into the wall. But it’s been such a long time since he’s had anything remotely like sex (with someone other than himself, that is) and Techie’s just so lovely, his body so warm and pliant and his lips so inviting… he stuffs the climbing gear into the bag with a lot more force than necessary.

Slinging the bag around his shoulder, he rises from his crouching position and turns. And freezes. Because Techie has sneaked up on him while he was busy being angry at himself, angry at the world, and angriest of all at his cock. Too busy to hear Techie’s steps behind him. And now they are very close to each other, again, and Matt is struck, again, at how tall Techie really is. He’s standing very straight, not slumping his shoulders at all, and looks Matt right in the eye.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For what?” _For almost letting you fall? For half shoving my dick into you? For being a total asshole who can’t control himself?_

“For everything. For letting me help you, for the view, and for –,” he bites his lip, looks to the side and then into Matt’s eyes again, “for this.” He makes a vague gesture that somehow involves the two of them. “That felt nice.” His face is bright red but he doesn’t look away.

“What?” Matt is sure he has heard wrong.

“That,” there’s the vague gesture again, “it was nice to feel you, uh, against me. I liked it.”

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

If Techie’s face gets any redder it will trigger some kind of alarm. Matt is sure of it. Just like he’s sure his face isn’t red at all because there’s not enough blood left in the upper region of his body. It’s all pooling somewhere around the middle. He doesn’t even attempt to hide or turn away. It doesn’t matter because Techie bites his lip again. Looks away. Looks at him. At… him.

And Matt suddenly understands. In the crudest possible way he has told Techie how much he wants him. And Techie, who is so used to being overlooked and ignored, not only doesn’t mind, no, he _likes_ it.

Matt lets the bag drop to the floor and holds out his hand.

“Come here,” he says.

Much to his delight, Techie takes his hand and lets himself be pulled closer. And closer still. Then he tilts his face up, just a little, smiles one of his adorable shy smiles. Matt’s eyes drop to his lips and _yes thank you_ there’s that little pink tip of the tongue again. Only this time he’s going to chase it and so he angles his head, like this, and brushes over Techie’s lips with his tongue, like that. And although his body screams _into the wall fuck him into the wall what are you waiting for you moron_ it’s not what Matt is going to do. He’s actually a very good kisser although not too many beings know about that because well, let’s face it, Matt looks more fighter than lover. But delicate equipment needs delicate handling and so he keeps his touches light and playful.

And he’s immediately rewarded because, oh, Mother of Moons, the moment their tongues touch, a damn near desperate little noise escapes Techie’s throat and he throws his arms around Matt’s neck and all but crawls into him. Matt’s arms automatically go around him, his hands sliding down his back until they land on Techie’s buttocks that are a perfect fit for Matt’s hands. One of Techie’s hands finds its way into Matt’s hair, grabs a fistful, and the other clutches at the back of his overall. He makes another noise, a more urgent one, and it shoots through Matt and turns his knees to jelly. If he doesn’t find something to lean against, he’s going to topple over and so he walks them backwards where he hopes there’s a wall. There is, and it’s cool and solid and just what he needs.

Techie seems more enthusiastic than experienced but it turns out he catches on quickly at everything he does, be it climbing, be it kissing. When he starts sucking on Matt’s tongue, Matt responds with a growl and jerks his pelvis forward, grinds against Techie, lets him feel how hard he is for him. Because of him. A small voice, barely audible over the white noise flooding his brain, whispers he might be coming on a bit too strong for this shy little creature but while Techie may be shy and possibly not very experienced, he’s a grown man with a grown man’s body – oh yes indeed – and a grown man’s needs – and isn’t that obvious – and he doesn’t seem frightened at all.

And then – _stars have mercy_ – he starts mirroring Matt’s grinding moves, rubs against Matt with an urgency that spells anything but shy. It rids Matt of whatever control he still has over his body. He squeezes Techie’s buttocks hard, making him whimper into their kiss and –

“What the pfassk?”

The hoarse female voice yanks Matt back into reality. He turns sideways, shielding Techie with his bigger body in the hope he will not be recognised and glowers at the intruder over his shoulder.

It’s Tarlaa. Of course. The blue-skinned Duros halfbreed always arrives early to her shift because she likes to sit down and contemplate what’s to be done first and how to structure her day. She’s an excellent technician, specialised in weather radar systems, and Matt has worked with her on numerous occasions. Right now, he wishes her to the core of Bespin.

“Now if that isn’t little Mattie,” she mocks in heavily accented Basic. “Entertaining, are we?”

“E chu ta,” Matt snaps. “You’re not supposed to be here for another hour.”

“The kark was I supposed to know the engineering room was occupied?”

“Well it is. But never mind, we were just leaving anyway.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

“Bite me.”

She laughs a throaty laugh. “Ah but the little redhead was doing a fine job at that.”

“Yes he was, fuck you very much. Do me a favour and have another caf.”

“No I won’t.” She blinks her red eyes in what Matt thinks is supposed to be a wink. “Tell you what, Mattie. How about I go outside and check my comm signal. I think it was a bit weak on the way up here.”

“You do that, Tarlaa,” Matt says, relieved. “And if you forget what you’ve just seen, let me know when the Ugnaught lighting system needs checking again. I’ll take over from you.”

“You will?” She sounds pleased. It’s no secret she despises the Ugnaught and the red light they need to thrive gives her headaches.

“Promise. Now off you go, there’s a good girl.”

When she’s gone, he loosens his grip around Techie.

“We better go now,” he says, his heart filled with regret and his cock no longer filled with blood. “I’m so sorry about that. I should have checked the schedule.”

Techie looks at him from under his lashes. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, lowers his eyes.

“Yes?” Matt encourages him.

“I was thinking, well, maybe we could get something to eat and then maybe find someplace quiet? I, uhm –,” he swallows, clears his throat and continues, hastily, as if he’s afraid he’s going to lose his nerve if he doesn’t speak really quickly, “I have a small table in my quarters. With chairs. We could eat there, if you like.” He all but mumbles the last words but Matt hears him loud and clear.

“Yes,” he says, just as quickly, “yes, that’s a brilliant idea. Let’s do that.” He picks up the bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Where should we go for food?”

Techie blinks. “Uhm, I sometimes get sandwiches at _Ly’etha’s_ on Level 163. They have the best nerfsteak sandwiches.”

“ _Ly’etha’s_ it is,” says Matt, nodding. He would have agreed to Bantha porridge if Techie had suggested as much but _Ly’etha’s_ sandwiches really are good. But it’s not sandwiches he’s currently interested in. He’s in the mood for something much sweeter.

He looks at Techie and it takes all of his willpower not to steal a kiss from his pretty lips. Instead, he takes his hand and twines their fingers together.

“Let’s go.”

Techie beams and now Matt does steal a kiss. Only a quick one. And a second one.

Techie’s smile grows wider.

 

Somewhere near the entrance to the Chrull tubes Tarlaa is checking her comm signal with her back to the engineering room, pointedly not seeing the two beings who hurry past her towards the lifts, heads ducked as if that makes any difference. She suppresses a snort. _Humans_.


	4. Chapter 4

A perfectly good nerfsteak sandwich (medium) and a crisp, fresh berbersian crab salad with an extra serving of dindra sauce sit on the table, forgotten. The sandwich hasn’t even been unwrapped yet.

Its intended recipient, on the other hand, sure has been. Partially, at least.

Techie is sitting on Matt’s lap, straddling him. His hands are buried in Matt’s hair and Matt’s tongue is buried in Techie’s mouth and Techie has begun to make small noises full of need. They’re the sweetest sounds Matt has ever heard and they’re driving him crazy. His hands slide along Techie’s bare torso and land on his delightful buttocks – stars, but they _are_ a perfect fit for his hands – and he squeezes, pulls him closer and squeezes harder when Techie starts rocking against him. He does it rather jerkily and without any finesse but Matt loves it. It tells him that he is wanted as much as he wants.

The chair gives a warning creak. It’s a sturdy enough chair for one person to sit on and enjoy a meal or do some reading or whatever, but it’s not been designed to hold two grown men at once. Without breaking their kiss, Matt stands up, holding Techie in place. He’s not going to admit it out loud but he’s rather pleased with himself that he can do that and make it appear easy because for all that he’s such a slim thing, Techie is not a featherweight. He is a grown man and as tall as Matt, though not as beefy. But Matt forgets all idle thoughts on weight and physical strength when Techie’s long legs wrap around his hips as if clinging to Matt is the most natural thing to do.

And it gets even better because from this angle, Techie’s hair falls forward and frames their faces like a curtain and it’s something he wants to feel on his whole body, these long, ginger strands, wants them brush all over him and not just his face. There’s only one way to achieve this and so he opens his eyes – why is that so hard? – to figure out the quickest way to the bed. Not that there’s many possibilities to miss it for Techie’s quarters are little more than the size of Matt’s toolbox. Figuratively speaking. Standard single living quarters are small by default, at least on the lower levels but this here is a disgrace.

He sits down carefully with Techie still clinging to him, lies back and stretches out, slowly, slowly. He doesn’t want to hit his head anywhere and he most definitely doesn’t want to hit Techie against anything. Techie, with whom he is still connected mouth to mouth, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, and who is still rocking against him with utter abandon and whose increasing lust is unmistakable, even through the fabric of Matt’s overall. Which he must lose quickly. But that would mean detaching himself from Techie which right now is the last thing he wants to do but he must do it if he wants to come skin to skin with him and not overall to skin and so he rolls them over so they come to lie on their sides and pulls away with a groan.

Techie’s face falls when he gets off the bed but when he realises what Matt’s about to do, he props himself up on an elbow and watches him, his eyes huge and intent, roaming over Matt’s body as if it’s a prize he’s won.

Never before has Matt lost his overall so quickly and it’s a good thing that he’s taken off his boots earlier because he doesn’t quite trust his fine motor skills right now, so impatient is he to crawl back into bed. He pulls off his socks and yanks the t-shirt over his head but leaves his underpants on because firstly, Techie is still wearing his and secondly, he’s not sure just how far Techie’s willing to go and he certainly doesn’t want to rush him. When he puts his glasses on the table, everything around him becomes a blur until he reaches the narrow bed.

He stretches out and pulls Techie back into his arms and stars and heavens and all kriffing galaxies, the feeling of naked skin against naked skin is always good but the feeling of Techie’s naked skin against his is threatening to melt the fuses that hold him together. He spreads his legs so Techie sinks in between them, grabs his arse again and pulls him close. Really close. Gods, but Techie is so hard and it feels so good, their erections bumping and grinding against each other like this. Those who dismiss dry humping as ‘not the real thing’ should try it with someone so… lithe. Yes, that’s it. _Lithe_. And oh, so very lovely and eager.

He can’t resist the temptation and slides his hands into Techie’s pants and ah, his buttocks feel even better when they're not covered. He pulls them apart, just a little, and sneaks two fingers between them, slides his fingers downwards until he reaches the tight little opening he’s been looking for. Very gently, he taps against it, not pushing inside, no, merely testing the playground.

Above him, Techie stiffens and his breath begins to stutter. But not in a good way.

Matt immediately removes his hand.

“What is it? Have I done something wrong?”

Techie buries his face in the curve of Matt’s neck, shakes his head. His body says something else. His erection that until a few heartbeats ago has most urgently rubbed against Matt’s is beginning to wilt.

“Techie? Love?”

Nothing. Techie still clings to Matt, so he has done nothing wrong per se. That is, he has done nothing to frighten him away. But something must be the matter.

“Speak to me, please,” he begs. “Have I hurt you? Don’t you want me to touch you… there?”

“I do,” comes a whispered reply but Techie shakes his head as he says it.

Matt closes his eyes. “Has anyone ever touched you there against your will?”

No reply.

“Has anyone ever hurt you?”

 _You stupid shit_. Of course Techie’s been hurt. His eyes. He’s figured that much out by himself. But – has there been more?

“Love?”

A very small, broken sound.

Rage wells up inside Matt. He forces himself to breathe in and breathe out, wraps his arms around Techie, hoping the gesture will transport safety and protection. What he feels inside, however, is pure hatred and his own body goes rigid with it. But he must tuck it away for later. Work it off at the gym, throw a few tools around, pick a fight with… not now. _Don’t think about that now._

“Love?” He strokes Techie’s hair. “Sweetheart?”

“Mhm?” A reply, good, but Techie still won’t look at him.

“I will never, ever do anything against your will, do you hear me?” He presses a kiss to the ginger head. “I don’t make promises lightly but I will promise you this. I will never do anything you don’t want, and I will never, _never_ hurt you.”

Techie’s face reappears and he gives a shaky smile.

“I know that, Matt. It was just –,” he blinks and his blue eyes are very huge and very scared, “I was reminded of something and I thought I had finally forgotten all about it and I –,” he blinks very rapidly now and Matt bends his head and kisses Techie’s eyelids, his eyebrows, forehead, his eyelids again, his nose and then, finally, brushes kisses against the corners of his mouth until, _yes, thank you, stars_ , Techie’s body gradually starts relaxing and he shyly kisses Matt back.

Matt very carefully turns him until he comes to lie on his back and sets out to woo him all over again, to coax him away from his shell into which he is about to flee. He covers Techie’s face with more kisses, gently nibbles his way along his neck and shoulders, blows featherlight kisses across his throat – he would really like to suck on his Adam’s apple but doesn’t dare do anything, well, _demanding_ right now – and licks across the pale nipples, teasing the flat discs to attention.

And finally, finally, the tension leaves Techie’s body altogether and he stretches out under Matt’s caressing hands and lips, giggles when Matt nibbles at his soft belly. There’s small white scars next to the belly button, scars that even Matt’s very short-sighted eyes do not miss and he adds them to the list of things he’ll have to work off at the gym. For now he concentrates on the noises Techie is making and his relief upon hearing the first soft sigh is so great that he presses his forehead against Techie’s belly and mumbles a soundless _thank you_ to whomever.

Techie’s erection has returned, too, and is beginning to tent his underpants but Matt ignores it for now, as much as he is impatient to take a closer look. _Not yet_. He nudges Techie’s knees apart and kisses the inside of his thighs, rubs his cheeks against the pale skin that is soft and sensitive there. Techie giggles some more and tries to squirm out of the way but it’s a playful attempt at escape.

The moment of panic is over.

Matt’s exploration of Techie’s body isn’t. He licks at the hollows of Techie’s knees, kneads and kisses his calves – very shapely, with just a dusting of very pale ginger hair –, encircles his ankles with his big hands and kisses the instep of Techie’s feet. This, however, is too much. Techie shrieks with laughter and struggles to free his legs. Matt immediately lets go, not wanting to make him feel trapped, slides up and settles himself between Techie’s legs, nudges the inviting bulge with his nose and licks along the waistband of Techie’s pants.

He hooks two fingers into the elastic band and gives a tentative tug.

“May I?” he asks and squints up. Techie’s face is a blur without his glasses but he still sees him nod, and so he slowly and carefully pulls the annoying fabric out of the way and over Techie’s legs, and finally his treasure is laid bare before him. And what a treasure it is.

Techie’s cock is… perfect. It’s beautiful. It’s everything he’s hoped for. It’s slightly curved and uncut but the head is already fully exposed, red, well, more of a dark pink, and it’s glistening. It’s the perfect size, too, not too large but certainly not small, either. Techie’s a tall, slender man and everything about him is in perfect proportion. Matt feels his hole clench. He wants Techie inside him so very much but decides that this is not going to be about what he wants. Or at least, not about what he wants done to himself.

He feels Techie’s gaze on him and he senses uncertainty, fear of being rejected once more.

“Everything about you is just so pretty,” he says, lowers his head and kisses the base of Techie’s cock, kisses the spot where cock meets balls, and sucks the skin between his lips.

The noise coming from above is most promising and so he continues, licks with one long stroke from bottom to top and lightly blows across the whole length on the way down. To be honest, he doesn’t have all that much experience in this particular field; he’s never really felt the urge to service anybody like this – lick another male being’s prick, and he hasn’t experienced it all that often on himself. But he’s thought about it a lot, has fantasized about what he would like done to him and has also thought about what it would feel like doing it to someone else, and so he sets about doing to Techie what he imagines feels good.

It turns out to be surprisingly arousing, giving pleasure like this. Especially when one is giving pleasure to someone as responsive as the lovely, pretty ginger stretched out before him. It’s bliss unto itself. Matt soon is painfully hard but for once, he couldn’t care less because taking care of himself would mean moving his focus away from Techie and that, he can’t do. He does not want to miss a single twitch, does not want to miss one single sigh or the sight of Techie clutching the bedsheets when Matt wraps his lips around the glistening cockhead.

He does so a little tentatively, not knowing what to expect, but the taste of the clear drops sitting at the tip is salty and not revolting at all and the cockhead’s spongy, firm texture actually feels rather pleasant against his tongue.

Techie gives a tight whimper.

Thus encouraged, he grows bolder, swirls his tongue around the bulbous tip and teases the slit, bobs his head experimentally and finds he can take about half of Techie’s cock into his mouth before his gag reflex sets in. He wraps his hand around the lower half and continues bobbing his head up and down, his hand echoing the movements of his head. He does feel a little silly doing it – surely there must be better ways – but Techie doesn’t seem to mind. He grows even harder in Matt’s mouth and he starts moaning and writhing and the sounds alone spur Matt on. So what if he feels silly. He must be doing something right.

“Matt – Mattie”, Techie gasps and blindly reaches for him. “Please, Mattie, I’m gonna – please, I can’t –”

He can feel it coming, too, gives a few more shallow bobs with his head and then pulls away but keeps his fist wrapped around Techie’s length, moving it up and down in quick and steady strokes until –

“Yes, that’s it, love,” Matt praises when Techie’s body arches up. “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

“Matt –” Techie’s voice breaks and he starts to come. Milky strands of semen shoot over Matt’s hand and onto Techie’s belly.

The sight is too much for Matt. He lets go of Techie, gets on his knees and yanks his pants down. His own cock springs free from its prison and he draws a hissing breath when he grips it. Just a few rough tugs and it’ll be over. His balls tense and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“On me, Mattie.”

He yanks them open. _What_?

Techie has propped himself up on his elbows and watches him with that intent look in his blue eyes. His legs are spread wide, his softening prick lies in a small pool of cum and his face is flushed. His smile is shy and challenging at the same time, and he draws his left middle finger through the creamy mess on his belly.

_Oh stars._

“Come on me.”

It’s all it takes. Matt grips his cock harder. One last, graceless pull and he spills and spills. And spills some more. It’s like he’s saved himself for this moment. This perfect, flawless moment with this perfect, beautiful, incredible man who lies naked before him, upper body raised, head flung back… covered in semen.

Matt makes a face. He’s come _a lot_.

Techie lifts his head and looks at his chest. Cocks his head, looks, covers his mouth in a gesture of comic despair.

Their eyes meet.

“Listen –,” Matt begins.

Techie starts giggling. Matt sags forward, unable to support himself any longer. He’s weak with relief and exhausted, too, but Techie’s giggling is infectious and he laughs with him.

Then Techie reaches for him and kisses him.

“Thank you,” he whispers against Matt’s mouth.

“You’re welcome,” Matt whispers back and that makes Techie giggle some more.

 

They eventually clean themselves up and then eat the nerfsteak sandwich and the berbersian crab salad. They eat in bed, and naked, and Matt licks dindra sauce off Techie’s fingers, and later he licks something else off Techie’s belly. And _that_ , well, _that_ may be the best thing he’s tasted so far.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The gym on Level 160 is located on the fringes of Port Town, just one level above the general housing of the facility’s workers. It’s frequented by a rather eclectic but relaxed enough mix of Port Town merchants, industry workers and factory workers of the upper housing levels who can afford the membership fee. It’s one of the small luxuries in Matt’s life and he truly enjoys working out there. He can switch between high tech equipment and good old-fashioned iron, depending on how much time he has and what mood he’s in.

Today is an iron day. He’s already done enough squats to make his legs shake and his thighs scream but he can do twenty more. For that broken sound Techie made when Matt asked him whether he’d been hurt.

Eight.

_‘I was reminded of something I thought I had forgotten.’_

Twelve.

The scars on his belly.

Fifteen.

And what was that Techie mumbled when he drifted off to sleep in Matt’s arms? _‘Please don’t let the morning take it’_? Take what? Their small moments of happiness? Matt away from Techie? Techie away from Matt? Let them try.

Twenty.

“Kark,” he roars and drops the weight into its rack, bends over, hands on his knees, and just breathes until he feels strong enough to continue. Excellent timing, too, because the male Zabrak who has occupied Matt’s favourite bench has just left.

When he’s loaded the bar with enough weight to satisfy his rage and has made sure the safety pins are properly set, he lies back, takes position with his eyes under the bar and wraps his hands around the grip. He unracks.

Whoa.

Maybe take one disc off each side? He lowers the bar experimentally. Well, maybe a set of eight reps. He presses back up. Shit. Make it six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. _Damn_. He racks the bar, looks up and starts. Behind the rack stands a tall human who peers down at him with mild interest.

“Don’t let rage determine your actions,” he says.

“What?”

“I’ve seen you do your squats. You’re angry.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Anger can be helpful, but you mustn’t let it consume you. If you don’t put it on a leash, it will eat up all that’s bright and warm inside of you.” He has a surprisingly soft voice that belies his scarred face. “Besides,” he adds with a smile, “lifting weights in anger might result in a torn muscle. Rage screams louder than the voice of reason.”

Matt stares at him, baffled. What’s this, a free counselling session?

“Want me to spot for you?” the stranger offers.

“Sure, why not.” Matt usually doesn’t bench press with a spotter but he really wants to test his limits today. So maybe the man talks funny but he sure looks like he can handle his weights. He’s built along the same lines as Matt but where Matt is big, the stranger is huge. Not chiselled as in spending all of his time at the gym, nor bulging as in expensive supplements. No, he looks more like, well, battle-tried. Yes, that’s it. He’s probably a mercenary. There’s a lot of that sort around Port Town.

“And can we switch between sets? Or are you in a hurry to finish?”

“I’m not in a hurry,” Matt shrugs and gets up. “Sure we can switch. I’m Matt, by the way.”

“I’m K- no-one,” the man says, removes the safety pins and heaves some more weights on the bar. “Spot for me?”

Matt eyes the bar dubiously, thinking that if that thing falls down, K No-one will be crushed. There’s no way he could hold that much weight for longer than one standard second, but he steps onto the small platform nevertheless.

As it turns out, neither of them is in serious need of a spotter but it does feel nice to have a training partner and after a brief chat about weights and routines they decide to team up for the rest of today’s session.

“What’s bothering you so?” K asks in between dips and wipes a dark strand out of his face. He wears his long hair tied back into some sort of bun.

“I found something out about a – a friend of mine,” Matt says evasively.

“Uh-huh.” K grabs the bars and jumps up, balances himself and then slowly lowers his body until his shoulders are below his elbows. He makes it look effortless but Matt knows it isn’t. “Close friend?”

“Yes.”

“Anything happen to him?”

_He got hurt. Somebody hurt him some time in his past but he won’t tell me. He won’t even tell me his name. I want to find who hurt him and hurt him right back. Or her. Sometimes I think he was hurt by a woman but he never says. I think he got violated. Raped. Or if not, then he surely has witnessed others being violated. And he had his eyes gouged out, of that I am sure, and his artificial eyes are not properly set in and I’m so afraid that one day they’ll get infected or something. And he is frightened so often and I just want to keep him safe._

“He’s had a difficult life,” Matt says.

“I see.” K does a few more reps, jumps off and lightly touches Matt’s shoulders when Matt grips the bars. “You can’t undo his past,” he says. “But you can make his future. He’s ginger, that friend of yours?”

“What?” Matt narrows his eyes. How does he –? But then K plucks a hair from Matt’s shirt and holds it up for him to see. It’s long and reddish-blond. Matt grins, relieved. Not a mind reader after all.

“Speak to him,” K says. “Listen to him. What’s more, listen to what he does not say. Therein lies all you need to know.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.” K gives him a crooked grin. “I know a thing or two about close-lipped gingers, believe me.”

 

When they’re finished, they shake hands and Matt feels a pang of regret. K was a good training partner and he wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He feels sure he could pick up a thing or two, and not only about handling silent gingers. His regret must have shown in his face because K smiles at him – a real smile, one that extends into his eyes – and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I like this gym,” he says, “and I enjoyed working out with you. I’ll come again as soon as I can.”

“How can we keep in touch?” Matt asks. “You want my comm line?”

“No need,” K shoulders his bag and turns to leave. “I’ll find you, Matt.”

Matt looks after him until he is out of sight, then heads for the fresher. There’ll be a lot of thinking to do when he’s done with his shift.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for Atlin Merrick who's lobbed the idea of _Matt's shirt being tested_ into my corner a while ago. Here you go, love. Also, remember our discussion about the thrill of finding someone like oneself? I felt I had to somehow touch it, if only in passing.

The small wire flower Techie’s been working on lies next to him on the mattress, forgotten. He’s in Matt’s quarters, has been since yesterday, since after their quick dinner that led to exactly nothing because the moment they stepped-shuffled through the door, mouth glued to mouth, Techie’s hands under Matt’s shirt and one of Matt’s hands buried in his hair while the other was fumbling with the key pad, well, the moment they finally fell into Matt’s quarters, Matt’s comm link went off. And it was a summons he couldn’t ignore because it was for the Ugnaught lighting system he’s taken over from Tarlaa.

So anyway, Techie spent the night curled up in Matt’s bed, nose buried in Matt’s pillow that smells so much like Matt that the bitter disappointment stung a little less and besides, Matt came back a few hours later and now the bed smells like them.

And until a few moments ago, Techie has busied himself making a flower out of the leftover wire Matt’s brought him while Matt has busied himself finishing the report on last night’s repairwork. But now Matt is doing pull-ups and what is a wire flower compared to the sight of Matt pulling himself up, slowly, slowly, until his chin is above the bar he’s mounted to the doorway, then lowers himself back down, slowly, slowly. The fabric of his faded shirt is stretching thin over his thick arms and shoulders as his muscles bulge and strain with the effort and Techie’s spent cock gives an appreciative twitch at the sight.

Matt does three sets of about eight or ten reps – Techie doesn’t count, too busy is he admiring, but that should be about right –, then he drops down to the floor and squints up at Techie.

“Anchor me?”

“What?”

“Get down here and hold my legs while I do sit-ups.”

“Oh. Of course.” He slides off the bed and lands in an awkward crouch before Matt. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just steady my knees.”

Techie is not entirely sure Matt actually needs his help but he sits back on his heels and puts his hands on Matt’s knees.

“Like that?”

“Perfect.”

And Matt starts. And Techie quickly finds out that if he leans forward a little and angles his upper body just so, Matt comes within kissing range each time he sits up and that seems to spur him on because he does an extra set. Then he throws his arms around Techie and flops down, pulling Techie with him.

Matt’s body is warm and hard and smells delicious and Techie thinks he’s never tasted anything sweeter than Matt’s lips and has never been more comfortable than right here, lying stretched out over this big man who is all his for the taking and stars is there ever much of Matt for the taking. He’s muscled up over the last months, especially since he’s started working out with…

“Say,” Techie asks between kisses, unable to not ask the question that’s been gnawing at him, “that Kay person?”

“Who?” Matt frowns, blinks and pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Your, uhm, workout partner.”

“Oh. What of him?”

“Is he pretty?” The moment the question is out he wants to unask it. It sounds ridiculous now that it’s out.

“What?”

“I mean,” Techie tries for a casual tone and hopes Matt won’t notice how quickly, how nervously his heart is beating, “you’ve been to the gym a lot lately and I thought –,”

 

Matt looks up into Techie’s blue eyes, sees the pupils whir open and close, open and close, like they always do when Techie is agitated. There’s good whirring and there’s bad whirring and right now, it’s bad. Matt is not much of a people person. He doesn’t always catch on quickly enough and tends to miss unspoken signals more often than not but he’s good at spotting irregularities and deviations and so he picks up the slight tremor in Techie’s voice, understands between whir open and whir close that his Techie is worried about something.  

“Love?” He twists them around so they come to lie on their sides. “What is it?”

Techie presses his lips together, shakes his head and looks away. Matt places a finger under his chin and gently forces him to meet his eyes.

“I’m being silly,” Techie mumbles. “I know you like to work out and I don’t. So of course you make friends at the gym.”

“No, you’re not being silly and no, he’s not my friend,” Matt throws one leg over Techie’s hips and pulls him really close. “We lift weights together. What’s on your mind? You can ask me anything, you know.”

“What does he look like?”

“Well,” Matt narrows his eyes, stares into the distance. Unhelpful images of K’s flat abs and muscular thighs flash through his mind, along with a few even less helpful sound bits of how he groans when he bench-presses or squats. “He’s tall, about my height, maybe an inch taller, and he’s enormous. You think I’m big? You should see his chest. And his arms? I could never press his weights.” He can’t suppress the awe in his voice. “He’s quick, too, his reflexes, I mean. Not sure if he’s a good runner, though, he’s probably too heavy to run. What else?”

 “Is he… pretty?” Techie repeats his earlier question. His voice sounds very small.

“No.” About that, Matt doesn’t even have to think twice. K is anything but pretty. “He has a rather horrible scar here,” he touches his own face to demonstrate, “and another one on his shoulder. Probably more but I wouldn’t know. He has dark eyes and his hair is long but not as long as yours.” He twists a ginger strand around his index finger and lightly pulls. “And not half as beautiful.” He presses a kiss to Techie’s soft, soft lips. “We lift weights together,” he says again, “and that’s all. You should come with me one day so you can meet him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. If you’re worried about him, then you should meet him and you’ll see there is nothing to worry about.”

Techie’s pupils have stopped whirring and Matt kisses his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyelids, the tip of his nose – kisses each part that is readily available without breaking their embrace, kisses him sweetly and softly until Techie relaxes in his arms and returns his kisses.

And while it’s true that Techie’s got nothing to worry about, well, there was a moment a couple of nights ago when Matt allowed his thoughts to wander in a different direction while he was pumping into his fist, when he imagined one of K’s big hands close around his cock. What would it be like with him? To rub against a body that big and muscular? To give in to K’s superior strength? But it was a fleeting thought only and K’s form soon began to slim down, his hair turned ginger, his eyes turned blue and his grunts turned into soft sighs and moans… and when Matt came, it was Techie’s name he groaned.

No, Techie’s got nothing to worry about. Yes, K has an impressive body and he’s a great workout partner who pushes Matt and challenges him, but what’s his bulk against his love’s slender, supple frame? Matt doubts K would ever wrap himself around Matt the way Techie does and Matt likes that so much, being wrapped in Techie. He feels protective and protected at the same time and the thought alone makes his heart want to overflow and burst. And K’s untidy bun is nothing against Techie’s soft, ginger strands that tickle and caress Matt’s skin along with Techie’s lips and tongue.

“Nothing to worry about,” he whispers into the curve of Techie’s neck. “Only you.”

 

And he sets out to demonstrate just how serious he is, and soon the spectre of Matt’s mysterious friend flees from the sighs and moans and giggles and murmured words of encouragement. There’s no room for it between “am I doing it right?” and “just like that, oh stars yes please”.

Absolutely no room between Matt and his Techie.


	7. Chapter 7

Matt opens the door to his apartment, brimming with excitement. There’s something he needs to tell Techie, something really, truly amazing, and he can’t wait to see his face when he hears about it.

Techie sits cross-legged on the floor, his back against the bed, and Matt’s heart jumps in his chest at the sight of his love. Will it ever stop, that mad rush of joy? The fluttering in his throat and the surge of pure happiness through his entire body that’s caused by the mere sight of Techie sitting in his quarters, just as if he belongs there?

Which he does. Belong.

Matt can hardly remember what it felt like coming home to an empty place. Oh, Techie still has his own quarters but he mainly goes there for a sweater he’s forgotten or to pick up some piece of equipment that he doesn’t need every day. Most of his meagre belongings are now in Matt’s quarters but Matt hasn’t found the courage to ask him to move in. Like, permanently. Matt knows his quarters are smaller than those given to couples, but it’s still bigger than what the average single worker is assigned. But Matt has his ways of getting what he wants, and Techie doesn’t take up a lot of space anyway.

But he will ask him. Soon.

Behind him, the door hisses close and Matt gently puts his gym bag on the floor, then leans against the wall and looks at this ginger wisp of a man who may not take up a lot of space in a room but sure has taken up all the space in Matt’s heart, which still goes thump-thump. Matt feels his face break out in a smile.

“Hello, love,” he says, softly, so as not to startle Techie. He’s learnt by now that his Techie is terribly jumpy, especially when he’s all drawn into something he works on—a faulty database, one of his little wire figurines or a bracelet, something he’s just recently taken up. Matt has learnt to keep his voice down and move softly when Techie is fully concentrated because he does not want to scare him. He’s seen Techie when he’s scared and it’s not something he enjoys seeing. Around him, Techie must never, ever be scared.

Techie raises his eyes from his datapad with a look on his face that is unlike anything Matt has ever seen on him.

Matt’s heart thumps a bit quicker, but not in a joyful way.

“Is everything all right?”

“I’ve met someone,” Techie says.

Matt’s heart plummets.

“Say again?” His voice sounds funny in his ears. A squawk, really.

“I’ve met someone,” Techie repeats patiently. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

He slides down the wall, lands on his behind with a _thud_.

“Oh Matt, you should have seen him. So tall and elegant, and his hair is like—Matt, what is it? What’s that noise you just made?”

Something between a growl and a sob, that’s the noise Matt’s just made. It’s strange, isn’t it, how quickly a surge of happiness flooding one’s veins can turn into a river of lead that threatens to paralyse the very heart that until a few seconds ago sent signals of pure joy through his system.

“Matt? Mattie?”

Techie scrambles to his feet and hurries over to where Matt sits slumped against the wall. He falls to his knees and carefully brushes one of Matt’s unruly curls aside.

“What is it? Matt, will you not talk to me?”

Matt cannot speak. _I’ve met someone._ He closes his eyes. _The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen._ So that’s it then. Maybe it’s for the best that he’s never got around to asking Techie if he wants to move in with him. Why would he. Matt isn’t beautiful. And he certainly isn’t elegant.

“Matt, you’re frightening me!”

He forces his eyes open at the sound of sheer panic in Techie’s voice.

“So you’ve met someone,” he croaks.

“Yes, but—Matt? Love?” He frames Matt’s face with his hands. “Are you sure everything is really all right?” Then his eyes grow huge and round. “You don’t think—oh my dear, poor love—I haven’t—that’s not what I meant—oh I am so, so stupid!”

He climbs into Matt’s lap, straddles his thighs and starts showering his face with kisses. Sloppy kisses, feathery kisses, shaky kisses, some of which land on Matt’s face, some others land on his glasses, all of them are accompanied by incoherent verbal fragments that consist of _sorry_ and _how can you think_ and _I would never_ and _you’re the most important_.

Matt unfreezes limb by limb and pulls Techie against him with a force that should crack the other man’s spine but it doesn’t because Techie all but crawls into Matt’s arms, is soft and pliant, moulds himself against Matt’s form. The whispering stops because his lips find Matt’s and it’s the wordless things he tells Matt that speak the loudest.

 

A little while later, after Matt has assured himself of his Techie still being his Techie, and after Techie has assured Matt that Matt is, and always will be, Techie’s one true love—a little while later Matt remembers there’s something he needs to tell him.

“How would you feel about some additional freelance income?” he asks, twirling a pale ginger strand around his index finger.

“Mhm?” Techie blinks up into his face, looking well-fucked and content.

Matt smiles and kisses the tip of his nose. “I said,” he repeats, “how would you feel about making some extra credits?”

“Oh!” Techie props himself up on a bony elbow. It pokes into Matt’s sternum but he doesn’t say anything. “About that. There’s something I need to tell you. But you first, Mattie, I want to hear your news first.”

Matt gently pushes Techie’s elbow to the side, just a little so it comes to poke into his pectoral which makes it considerably less painful.

“You know my workout friend, K,” he begins. “Well guess what.”

“What?” Techie shifts so he comes to half-lie on Matt.

Matt puts an arm around him and pulls him closer. “K told me that his partner has a database problem and he asked if I knew someone who knows his way around computers, and so I told him that you know everything about computers and systems and databases and then—” he makes a dramatic pause.

“And then?” Techie urges him on.

“He asked me to ask you if you would take a look.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Matt confirms. “He also said there’s no need to worry, there’s nothing illegal about it and you would get paid.”

Techie says nothing in reply. He purses his lips and his eyes whir open and close, open and close.

“Well? What do you say?”

“That’s funny,” Techie says. “Because you know what?”

“Mhm?”

“That’s just what Lorcan has asked me, too.”

“Who’s Lorcan?”

“The man I met—wait.” He slides out of bed, walks to where his datapad is sitting on the floor, all but forgotten, picks it up and returns to bed, but sits up cross-legged instead of snuggling against Matt’s chest.

Matt misses feeling him against his skin but he looks at him with pride. It wasn’t too long ago that Techie couldn’t bear the thought of being so exposed but now here he sits, in all of his pale and naked glory, and he’s taking Matt’s breath away.

He sits up, too.

“What do you want to show me?”

“You know, all the time we were talking, I thought he looked familiar but—“

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Matt says. “How did you meet him?”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.”

And Techie tells him how he’s been shopping for, “you know, crafty things” and how he’s bumped into this man and spilled all of his purchases, “mine, not his”, but instead of yelling at him, the man helped him pick everything up and not only that.

“Oh Mattie,” Techie breathes, “just imagine. He asked me to eat with him so we went to Ly’etha’s, and he sat down there with me, for everyone to see, and we ate and talked, and you know what’s best?”

“What? Did he pay?”

“Well yes, he did, but that’s not what I meant. He listened to what I had to say, and he asked questions, too. He was interested in what I had to say, you know.”

“Of course he was,” Matt says, not understanding. “Why wouldn’t he be interested? You’re so clever and you know so much.”

“Oh Mattie.” Techie’s face softens. “That’s what you think.” He reaches for one of Matt’s hands and kisses it. “But it’s not what most of the others think.”

“Kriff ‘em,” Matt says dismissively. “A bunch of idiots.”

Techie giggles and taps something into his datapad. “Like I said, I thought he looked familiar, what with his hair and all—”

“What about his hair?”

“It’s the same colour as mine, only, well maybe a little redder even. Can you imagine that?”

Matt pushes his glasses up his nose. “So he’s a ginger—” He stops mid-sentence. _I know a thing or two about close-lipped gingers_ —wasn’t that what K said? What if K’s ‘ginger’ and Techie’s new friend are one and the same person?

“What is it, Matt?”

“Nothing. You go first. Why did you think he looked familiar?”

“Remember the first couple of times we met for a quick bite?”

Does he ever. How unsure he was back then, so certain that a creature so pretty and smart would never look twice at such a big, clumsy oaf that Matt is. But he doesn’t say that because Techie doesn’t like it when Matt says such things about himself, and so he only smiles and reaches out to trace the outline of Techie’s jaw.

“Remember how we talked about the General and his Enforcer, and how we tried to find out what they look like?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I pulled up the photo of the General that I’ve saved into my personal drive and I looked into the security cam footage of the food court, and will you please look at this.”

He hands Matt his datapad that shows two photos. Matt looks at them and looks closer. He remembers the one on the left. It shows a First Order officer in full regalia, clearly a promotional shot. Stern, pale features, icy green eyes, bright red hair combed back and parted diagonally. ‘Gen. Armitage Hux’ says the footer. The other shot is a little blurry but—

“Fuck me sideways,” Matt says, stunned. “It’s the same guy.” He lowers the datapad, then looks at the two photos again. “You ran into the General.”

“You think so, too?”

“I’m sure of it.” He squints. “He really is a handsome fellow, isn’t he.”

“He’s beautiful from up close,” Techie says. “Flawless. His hair is all shiny and his eyes are so green and his mouth is so pretty—don’t look like that, Mattie. Hear me out. You know when you look at something that is so beautiful that you want to reach out and touch? And at the same time you know you shouldn’t because if you touch it, you will get hurt?”

Matt nods. It’s how he’s come to think about K. K, with his huge, powerful body, his gentle voice and his beautiful dark, wavy hair. K, who exudes danger and barely suppressed power and who could surely snap Matt’s spine like Matt would snap a stylo in two. Touching K is out of the question. But look at him, that he can do.

“That’s what Lorcan’s like. He’s like one of those lightsabres, you know? All sleek and elegant but he will burn you when you try and touch him. But at the same time, he was really nice and friendly. I felt—” he pauses, scrunches his face up, looks for a suitable word and finally says, a little hesitantly, “I felt understood. Respected, even. I just don’t know why.”

“Well, if he truly is the General, then he recognises a professional when he sees one. Just why did he call himself Lorcan if he really is this Hux person?”

“Maybe it’s his alias,” Techie suggests. “If he doesn’t want to be recognised.”

“With hair like that?” Matt snorts. “Hard not to be recognised. Sorry,” he quickly adds. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“But you’re right. With hair like ours, you stand out.”

Matt opens his mouth, then closes it again because, wait. If this is the General, who is ginger, and K said he knows a ginger, and his partner needs help with a computer, so let’s say the General is K’s partner, than this can mean only one thing.

Matt flops back, removes his glasses and stares up at the ceiling.

He’s been working out with the Enforcer. A Force-warrior. A Grey Jedi, as the rumours go. He’s had filthy thoughts about the man—and for the second time since he’s come home, an indefinable noise escapes Matt because—

Very. Filthy. Thoughts.

About a kriffing mindreader.


	8. Chapter 8

Matt opens the door to his quarters—well, no, it’s _their_ quarters now. Techie has terminated his lease a few days ago and has officially moved in with Matt. It’s still a little crowded, what with Techie’s meagre belongings lying about but they’re both fine with that. More than fine, really. They’ve been so busy with each other that neither of them has bothered to stow things away and the state of Matt’s cot is witness to that. They really need to get a wider bedstead but not just now.

Now, Matt stands in the door to their quarters and smiles at what he sees, for what he sees is Techie and Techie is more beautiful than ever.

Three standard weeks under the wings of the General and the scared little creature has begun to shake off some of his fear. He’s no longer slumping his shoulders and he has started to dress with more care. He’s not suited up or anything but he makes sure he’s not wearing his comfy shirts or his faded cargo trousers when he goes to see the General. And he goes to see him often and he always brings home work. Work that makes him hum, and work that makes the corners of his mouth curve upwards.

And his hair, ah, his glorious, beautiful hair.

If Matt was forced at gun point to name one thing he has not always whole-heartedly adored about his adorable love, it would have been his hair. Techie used to neglect his hair, using the cheapest of products to unlovingly rinse his ginger strands, making them look dull and lank. It’s because Techie used to hate his hair for it makes him stand out. ‘Used to’, because he doesn’t hate it any longer. That’s probably the General’s doing, too. If Matt was forced at gun point to name one thing he finds attractive about that haughty icicle of a man his love idolises so, it would have to be the man’s hair. It’s neatly parted, sharply cut and when light falls on it just so, it looks like liquid copper, all fiery and amazing.

That’s what Techie’s hair looks like now. Amazing. Beautiful. Brightly burning under the light of the small desk lamp, and with each movement, fiery sparks dance across his head.

In short, the sight of his love sitting humming and smiling to himself over the leather string and bead project he’s working on makes Matt’s heart expand in his chest. He feels like singing and shouting because he’s never been so happy, and returning to his quarters after a horrible late shift has never felt so much like coming home. Before Techie, Matt was content, having settled in nicely into his new job, working on his degree at a pace that suits him and when the occasional itch arose, it wasn’t too hard to find someone to scratch it. But this here? He’s never expected to find someone who is so…perfect. Complementing him in each and every way. Making his life complete.

He opens his mouth to tell Techie, but then Techie looks up from what he’s doing and his bionic eyes are so blue and his hair is so red and the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Matt opens his mouth and what comes out is,

“I want to fuck you so bad.”

And the instant the words are out he wants to punch himself because, really, Matt?

But then something happens he would never have expected, not in a hundred standard years and not in any time measurement he can think of.

Techie pushes his chair back, turns to face Matt and spreads his legs invitingly.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asks with a shy-playful smile.

Matt drops his tool bag. He never drops his tool bag because the stuff in there is worth a lot of credits.  
Matt kicks the door shut. He never kicks the door shut because, well, he doesn’t.  
Matt yanks his coverall open. He never yanks his coverall open because why should he?

With four long strides he crosses the distance between door and desk and comes to stand before Techie, trying not to loom over him because Techie usually doesn’t react well to…

But Techie gets up from his chair and pushes the coverall down and over Matt’s shoulders.

“Hello Mattie,” he says. “I’ve missed you.”

And he kisses Matt and where Matt has until a few seconds ago been hot and horny and ready to…well, there’s no delicate way of saying it…to pound into his sweet love, well, Matt melts right into Techie’s embrace and his long work day slips off his shoulders because nothing counts but his slender, graceful love whose soft lips open so willingly for Matt’s tongue. He reaches blindly for the hem of Techie’s shirt and pulls it up and kisses him with the fabric between them which makes Techie laugh.

Then he lifts Techie off his feet, carries him over to the unmade cot and gently lowers him down as if he was a featherweight which he isn’t and he’s gained some weight under Matt’s care, too, but Matt’s muscled up since he’s started working out with K and carrying his still slim love across the room is no hardship.

He kisses his way from Techie’s soft lips across his throat, down across the sternum, licks and kisses the scars on his belly—he still doesn’t know what’s been done to Techie and by whom but he always makes sure to pay extra attention to the parts of his love’s body that were so abused in the past and showers him with kisses and caresses, showing and telling him he’s loved and cherished, no matter what, and no harm will ever come to him again.

And Techie reacts beautifully to Matt’s tender ministrations, sighs and moans softly, stretches and relaxes under Matt’s hands and lips and Matt feels his lust rise up again. With a grunt, he seperates himself from the pale body stretched out before him to remove his heavy work boots, his socks and his kriffing coveralls, lets everything drop to the floor so he can crawl into bed with Techie who has shed his trousers and pants and is now lying on his side, watching Matt strip with barely concealed longing on his face.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, Matt,” he says. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

Matt preens a little, but only a little because too much preening means losing time that could be better spent.

“Not nearly as beautiful as yours,” he says, lies down next to him and pulls him into his arms.

Techie blushes prettily and so Matt sets out to doing what he likes best and what he’s done only minutes before and what he can never do often enough: he kisses and nibbles his way down to Techie’s belly button. Here, he pauses and softly blows over it. It always makes Techie giggle and squirm for he’s ticklish down here, Techie is.

But not today.

There is no sound and no giggle and Matt raises his head and looks up, confused. Is he doing something wrong?

There’s an intent look on Techie’s face. He’s pulled his lower lip between his teeth which is something that Matt usually finds irresistible because Techie has very pretty lips. But he’s worried now because he can’t figure out what’s on Techie’s mind.

“What is it, love?” he asks and moves back up so he comes to lie next to Techie. “Is anything the matter?”

Techie shakes his head, no. He worries his lower lip some more and then says, in a very shy voice,

“What you just said?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to do it.”

“What?” Matt frowns, puzzled. “What did I say?”

“When you stood in the door?”

“When I—oh!” His horrible, appalling blooper. But wait. “What is it you want me to do?”

“Fuck me. You said you wanted to fuck me.” Techie’s voice trembles a little but he smiles at Matt and the pupils of his bionic eyes are very wide. “And I want it too, Matt. We’ve never done it and I really, really want to feel you deep inside me.”

Matt rolls over to lie on his back and blinks at the ceiling. Has the ground beneath them begun to shake? It sure has. Why else would his stomach feel all queasy? There must be something wrong with the City’s stabilisers. He must look into this. Soon. Soonish. He puts his hand on his diaphragm and takes deep, controlled breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Steadily. Just like his mother taught him all those years ago when he was little and afraid of the three red moons that were so big and terrifying outside his narrow bedchamber, back then, back there.

Fuck…Techie? It’s something he’s dreamt of for as long as he’s known him, since the first time he’s laid eyes on this beautiful, fey, slender being.

But it’s been out of the question. Not that Techie has ever shied away from anything Matt likes to do, or likes to have done. Only, whenever Matt’s hands or lips find their way between Techie’s delightful bum cheeks, Techie freezes. It’s all good the moment Matt disappears from back there but while they’ve licked, sucked and grabbed at pretty much each and every part of each other and while Techie is perfectly happy to have Matt fuck between his thighs and seems to enjoy it, too, well, actual fucking, as in cock-into-hole, has been a taboo.

Until now.

“Matt?” Techie’s face comes into view. “Mattie? Have I said anything to upset you?”

“Have you—” Matt yanks himself back to order. “Dear stars, no!”

He reaches for Techie and pulls him against his chest, holds him tight, so tight, feels his heart beat against his own.

“You make me so very happy.” He kisses the pretty lips that smile so invitingly up at him. “But are you absolutely certain? You don’t have to, you know. I'm very happy with everything we do. You don’t have to do anything you’re afraid of just because you think it’s something I want.”

“I know that, stupid.” He says ‘stoopid’ and makes it sound like a caress. “But I’m not doing it just for you.” He presses a soft kiss to Matt’s jaw. “I want it, too. I was so afraid, you know, all the time I was afraid of being noticed. Every time someone looked at me I was like, please don’t let them see me. But then you came and you noticed me and I was not afraid, and then you saved me when I was running and everything wasn't so bad anymore.” He props his chin up on Matt’s chest. “We’ve both been tested and we’ve taken our shots so there’s nothing there, you know, diseases and such. And I know you will not hurt me.”

“I...uh—” Matt falters. He knows he’s going to hurt Techie although, stars, he won’t want to. He’s not exactly small and if Techie really hasn’t done this before, then there’s bound to be pain. “It will not be comfortable for you. At least not at first,” he hastens to add.

“I know that,” Techie says, matter-of-factly. “I’ve looked it up.”

“You—what?”

The faintest of pink spreads over Techie’s cheeks but he doesn’t look away. “I’ve only ever—I mean, there have to be ways other than painful, right? Why else would everybody be so crazy about it if all it ever did was hurt? And so I downloaded some holovids to find out about how it’s done between, you know, uh, consenting beings.”

Matt feels his cock thicken while he’s trying to process what he’s just heard. He will absolutely not focus on the bit about painful and hurt—he will deal with that later, in the gym—but he will concentrate on the fact that his soft-spoken, shy little love has downloaded and watched porn. For that’s what it must have been, porn. Did it turn him on? Did he touch himself while watching? Images of Techie with his hands down his trousers, playing with himself, dance through Matt’s brain and threaten to fog his mind.

“Please, Matt?” Techie pushes himself up on his elbows and looks at Matt. “Will you show me? Before I lose my nerve?”

 

So Matt does. Show him. And he goes about it at snail’s pace, too. Whenever he feels Techie tense up or tremble in ways other than aroused, he stops and kisses him, strokes and pets him, murmurs sweet nothings of encouragement and comfort until the trembling stops and Techie nudges him on.

Then he dares go deep enough to feel for that little—

“Aaaaah Matt…what are you…oh this feels…ohMattpleaseagainpleaesagainMattieplease…”

From here on, it’s a lot easier. Matt does not spare a thought about his own erection, does not pay attention to the pitiful wailing of his cock that’s practically yelling at him to stop playing about— _he’s ready, don’t you see, his hole is wide and ready and slicked up just fine and he’s just begging to be speared, can you not see it you moron?_ —because this is not about him at all. He’s been given a gift he’s not expected to be given any time soon, if at all, and he’d sooner tie a knot into his cock than thunder forward and spoil it.

And so he continues, careful and patient, until Techie is a writhing, sobbing mess. Then, and only then does he slick himself up until he feels as wet and slimy as a Luurdworm.

“Why don’t you get on your knees,” he suggests. “I think it will be easier for you if I, uhm, if I do it from behind. Better angle and all.”

The moment the words are out, Techie stiffens and his erection, until now jutting out proudly, starts to deflate before Matt’s eyes. But this time, he does not clamp up or shrink into himself.

“Please, not from behind,” he says instead. “Please, Mattie, I need to see it’s really, really you. I need to see your face. Please?”

“Of course.”

Matt wants to scream with rage and cry with relief. Rage, because he wants to find the beings who did this to Techie. Relief, because his love trusts him enough to want to go on.

He nods.

“Of course,” he says again, removes his glasses and gets between Techie’s legs. “That’s it,” he praises when Techie spreads wide enough for him to sink in between them. “You’re so beautiful and I love you and you are everything to me. But you know that, yes?”

“I do,” Techie whispers and presses his mouth to Matt’s.

And then, without much help or conscious effort, Matt finds Techie’s entrance and pushes inside. Not all the way, no, not yet, just so that the tip of his cock is inside. Techie’s eyes go huge and round, and he makes a funny little sound between pain and surprise. He doesn’t tense up, though. Instead—bless his soul—he raises his legs and wraps them around Matt’s hips.

“You’re so warm, Matt,” he says, a little shakily. “But so kriffing huge!”

Matt huffs out a laugh.

“I should apologise for that,” he says with considerable effort. “But I can’t because it’s also a great fucking compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” Techie says earnestly, and then they both laugh and laugh, and suddenly Techie’s body gives and Matt slides all the way in.

It’s tight. So very tight. And it’s hot. So…snug. Techie’s body has Matt it a tight, hot grip and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Oh, technically he has felt it before. Techie is not Matt’s first sex partner, see. He knew what to expect, has bedded both male and female humans, taking pleasure whenever it’s offered because, let’s face it, beings have never exactly lined up before Matt's quarters because he’s not the most obvious choice, big, hulking, sulky clod that he is. But there were occasions here and there and Matt sure took them. And once there was this pink-skinned Zeltron female who was flexible in ways…but that doesn’t belong here and besides, Techie’s gasp drives all else from Matt’s mind.

“You okay, love?”

Techie nods. His eyes are closed and…oh stars no, is that a tear? If only his vision weren’t so kriffing blurry! He must get his eyes fixed, he really must, it was all over his last health eval, too, why is he so bloody stubborn about not allowing a laser near his eyes…

“I had no idea it would feel like that.”

_What?_

Techie blinks his eyes open, blinks a little quicker and yes, there is one tear sitting in the corner of his left eye, about to roll off the lashes it’s clinging to. Matt kisses it away.

“Does it feel good or bad?”

“Oh Matt, it’s beautiful!”

“Does it hurt very much?” Matt asks, remembering the words about pain and hurt.

Techie frowns, then— _hell and damnation!_ —he rolls his hips, as if to test the level of discomfort Matt’s cock is causing him.

“Don’t,” Matt manages. “Don’t wiggle like that or it’ll be over.”

“Really?”

Matt nods, clenching his jaws, trying to think of anything, something, anything other than this tight, hot hole he’s buried in, anything other than Techie rolling his slim hips underneath him.

“Really?” Techie asks again and there’s a small, wicked smile on his mouth. “Do you find it terribly distracting when I do this?”

And damn his impudence but he lifts his legs a little higher and roll-pushes his hips up, taking Matt deeper.

Matt drops his head, buries his face in the curve of Techie’s shoulder and starts thrusting forward into the tight, hot heat. Forgotten is the promise to himself to go slow, forgotten is the oath to himself that this is not about him. It’s too good, too tight, too sweet, too tempting…

And over too quickly.

It’s maybe a handful of thrusts and Matt groans and shudders and spills into Techie’s heat, and spills and shudders some more, hating himself for not lasting and shouting with joy and lust at the same time. With what little remains of his willpower he pulls out, still twitching, and slides down to take Techie into his mouth. Turns out Techie’s not that far either and Matt takes him as deep as he can, encircles him with his hand, too, and bobs his head until Techie cries out and bows his body up and pushes deeper into Matt’s mouth. Matt doesn’t leave him, oh no, he takes all Techie has to give and sucks and swallows in rhythm with Techie’s orgasm until Techie falls back limply into the sheets, spent and giggling.

 

They sleep for a little while, afterwards. And do it again the moment they open their eyes. And again, because Techie wants to try it like this. And again, because like that it may be even better.

In the end, it’s Matt who’s hurting and finished and begging for mercy because, damn, he really must up his lower back workout.

 

And the bedsheets? Well, that’s a whole different story.


	9. Chapter 9

“Are you absolutely sure you want to ask him that?“ Matt asks on their lift ride up. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think it’ll hurt you more than anything.“

But Techie nods. His mind is made up. He’s thought long and hard about this and he will ask before he loses his nerve. Just...

“What if he’s not there?“ The lift doors hiss open and he turns to look at Matt, his heart beginning to thump in the well-known rhythm of an on-coming panic attack. “What if K isn’t there?“

“Why shouldn’t he be? We both got the same message, yeah? Something ‘we need to talk to you about’. Do you think the General speaks of himself in the plural now that he’s been made Baron Administrator?“

“Chief Administrator,“ Techie corrects him and lets himself be pushed out of the lift, gently but firmly. He gives Matt a nervous smile. “It’s Chief Administrator, Mattie, not Baron. And you’re probably right. I’m being stupid, is all.“

“You’re not being stupid,“ Matt softly chides him, placing a reassuring hand on the small of his back. Techie’s heart stops thumping. “You know I don’t like it when you speak of yourself like that, love.“

Before Techie can answer, the doors to the hotel suite slide open and there he is, K, Matt’s larger than life training partner, the General’s Enforcer and newly appointed Security Chief. He’s huge. Techie can’t get used to just how big the man is when he stands directly before him. K is dressed in black, as usual, wearing a pair of loose trousers, a shirt that is very tight around his chest and shoulders, and he’s barefoot. His dark hair has been cut since the last time Techie has seen him but not too much. Just enough for his curls to spring back to being curly. No, not curly. Wavy. Yes. Dark, luscious waves. Techie wonders if they are soft as they look and what it would feel like to run his fingers through them.

K smiles at him, a warm, attractive smile that extends into his eyes and Techie blushes hotly, only now remembering that the man is a mindreader of sorts, and isn’t that what he wants to ask of him? And yet here he is, staring at him and fantasising about his soft hair.

“Hello you two,” K says in that surprisingly gentle voice of his. “Glad you could make it. Please, come in.”

They follow him into the living room section where Lorcan is sitting in one of the armchairs, engaged in a conversation with two female beings. One of them, a tall, muscular Zabrak with intricate facial tattoos is sitting directly opposite him, her posture seemingly relaxed but her amber eyes zoom in on Matt and Techie the instant they enter and Techie has the unpleasant feeling of being scanned, valued, weighed and filed away. There is something about her he finds menacing and he shrinks back a little. 

The second being is a Twi’lek with huge blue eyes, much like Techie’s but hers look to be her own and not bionic. She and the Zabrak are  dressed in a similar fashion, a no-nonsense combination of synthleather and some sort of dull, elastic fabric, but where the Zabrak is dressed in dark browns, her outfit is of a dark, soft green, complementing her light-green skin, and it’s a lot more revealing than the Zabrak’s. She has made herself comfortable in a corner of the sofa with her feet pulled up and her lekku draped gracefully around her shoulders. Her gaze travels from Matt to Techie but there’s nothing menacing about her and Techie doesn’t feel judged. She gives him a smile and nods at Lorcan.

“The redhead, yes?” she asks in a melodic voice. “I like him. I’ll do it.”

Wait, what? Techie frowns, confused, but Matt’s bristles are up before he can utter even a syllable.

“What’s all this about?” Matt asks sharply. “She’ll do what? K? General?”

“Greetings, Matt,” Lorcan greets them and rises from his chair. “Hello, Techie. There is something we need to talk about but please, sit. Would you like anything to drink?” He gestures towards the low table where a few bottled drinks are lined up.

“Thanks, Lorcan,” Techie says and sits down awkwardly on the far end of the sofa, pulling at Matt’s sleeve for him to sit down between him and the Twi’lek. “I’ll have a Fizzade. Please.”

Lorcan opens one of the bottles and hands it to him, along with a glass. “We only have the orange stuff, hope you don’t mind,” he says. “Matt?”

Matt shakes his head stubbornly, his eyes darting from the Twi’lek to the Zabrak and back. 

“What is it you wanted to discuss with us?” he asks again, wasting no time on niceties. 

Techie nudges him with his elbow. These two are no longer just their gym buddy and employer but the Administrator and Security Chief although K sure doesn’t look official. But he doesn’t have to, does he. He exudes power even when barefoot. And Lorcan, well, Lorcan may not be wearing one of his uniform-like suits but he’s still impeccably dressed with his dark trousers and vertically striped shirt. There’s nothing laid-back about him, ever, not even when they work late and he lets some of his guard down when it’s just the two of them.

Neither Lorcan nor K seem to take offence at Matt’s bluntness, however. They exchange a look and K drops his massive frame into the armchair next to Lorcan’s, Force-fetches a bottle, opens it and swings his legs up and over the armrest which earns him a frown from Lorcan. K gives him a grin and takes a swig.

“There’s two things I’d like to discuss with Techie,” Lorcan begins, “but one of them will affect you too, Matt, so I’ve asked both of you to come. But before we go on, let me introduce Kelenn and Ki’Quan. Kelenn is my personal bodyguard,” the Zabrak inclines her head, “and Ki’Quan is her associate.” The Twi’lek winks at Techie. “They’re here for a reason and I’ll tell you in a moment. I’d first like to offer you an exclusive contract, Techie. I would very much like to have you on my team. You would be reporting directly to me and would only work with others if you think it’s necessary, and if you feel absolutely comfortable about it.” He lets that sink in for a moment, then he continues. “I’m not at all happy with how the IT infrastructure has been set up in the past, let alone with how it’s been overall handled or rather, not handled. I’ve developed a couple of strategies and models and I’d very much like to have your opinion.”

“My opinion?” Techie stops circling the rim of his glass with his index finger.

“Of course he wants your opinion, love,” Matt says, matter-of-factly. “No-one knows that stuff like you do.”

“Precisely,” Lorcan agrees. “We’ve been working together for about a month now and already you’ve managed more than all of the so-called specialists have over the last decade. The City’s systems are a patchwork of updates incorrectly installed or not at all, of wildly improvised make-do solutions, unstable databases that tend to freeze during cross-reference searches—you’ve seen the sad state the central database is in, and don’t get me started on traffic control.”

Techie gives a soft huff and nods. The uncoordinated maintenance, or better, the blithe ignorance with which some of the City’s crucial systems have been left to rot is one of his major peeves. He can’t recall how many small and not-so-small bugs he’s had to fix just because someone has neglected to install the necessary updates and in the order in which they were made accessible instead of in an order that fitted best into some blockhead’s schedule.

“In short, I need someone on my staff with a superior understanding of how the various systems work and how they can be linked to form a seamless network. The central database must be stabilised, sensitive material must be secured and encrypted and we’ll need an authorisation system that cannot be compromised, neither by remote access nor from within.” He crosses his legs. “That’s where you come in.”

“I see,” Techie says and takes a sip from his glass. The orange Fizzade is not his favourite but it’s better than the green stuff that K seems to favour. “I’ll get in touch with some of the specialists I know and send you a list of candidates.”

“What?” Lorcan looks taken aback and Matt nudges Techie with his knee.

“He’s talking about you,” he says and turns to look at Techie. “Haven’t you listened to what he said? He said he wants to offer you an exclusive contract and he wants to discuss his plans with you.” His warm brown eyes glow with admiration and he beams at Techie. “I told you! Didn’t I tell you when we first met? That one day the General would take notice of you and offer you a post on his command bridge?”

“Shhh,” Techie tries to silence him. His ears are burning and he doesn’t know where to look but Matt won’t be stopped.

“See? I told you, didn’t I?” he says again, excited. “Here’s your chance to get away from the odd jobs you’ve been working. I really hate it when he is called to work on something on the lower levels,” Matt says, turning to K. “It’s not safe for him down there and it drives me nuts when he comes back all scared because he’s had to fix some smuggler’s tracking system, or worse.”

“Mattie!” Techie cries, desperate. 

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Matt’s eyes are blazing behind his glasses. “I know you know your way around there and the gods know how but you know your way around these…beings but I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

“Neither do I,” K softly says. “That’s why Ki’Quan is here. Let’s not beat around the bush any longer. We can discuss contracts later. What you need is a bodyguard of your own, mate.”

“What?” Techie and Matt say, at the same time.

“You heard me. You’ve been seen coming and going to and from this hotel and only the most stupid of beings won’t put two and two together.  There’s folks out there who know what you can do, and the General’s gained a reputation for streamlining things a little, you know, get rid of some of the old crap, re-organise here and there and so forth. Of course he would hire an outside specialist, someone with a fresh view on things and it’s not too hard to guess you’ve been doing stuff for him. Probably seen a thing or two that’s not public knowledge and could do a lot of damage if it ended up in the wrong hands.” With a big gulp he empties his bottle and sets it on the table. “Whether or not you’ll accept the position Lorcan’s offered you is entirely up to you, Techie. Please understand that no-one here tries to force you into anything. But as long as you are working for the Chief Administrator, even if you continue on a freelance basis, you’ll need protection.” He shifts around and comes to sit in a less slouchy position. “Sorry if this seems a bit sudden to you but I see no point of hiding the truth. I bet Ki’Quan would do a great job watching over you without you even noticing but it’s not what either of us wants. There’ll be no sneaking about within the General’s inner circle.”

Techie feels his pupils whir open and close. Funny how he only notices this in moments of extreme stress. He’s had his bionic eyes for some eight years now and has grown used to them. He has learnt how to focus on objects close by and on objects moving at great speed, knows how to take full advantage of his much improved eyesight because yes, as reluctant as he is to admit it, the performance of his bionic eyes is way above that of his human eyes. If only they’d been implanted with more care but that’s a whole different story and he knows what to do when they start to itch (don’t scratch!). In short, he doesn’t think about his eyes as not part of his body any longer. Except for moments like now, when things threaten to overwhelm him. Then he feels the mechanical whirring of his pupils. It’s an unpleasant sensation, this mixture of being aware of foreign objects in your head and of the feeling of being a stranger in your own body, and it usually means one thing, and one thing alone—

Matt’s big hand closes around his and squeezes it. With the other, he takes the glass from him and puts it on the table. Matt’s hand is so warm and so sure and with him by his side, he will not fall. Never again.

He clears his throat. “May I sleep over this? I’ve never thought about it that way.”

K opens his mouth but Lorcan silences him with a look.

“Of course you may. It’s exactly as K said, it is not my intention to force you into anything against your will. I’d like to offer you a permanent post on my staff, yes, and I’m more than willing to discuss the terms with you because I want this to work for both of us. But if you don’t want to sign on and keep working on a freelance basis, there will be no repercussions. Do you understand that?”

“I do. Thank you. I think I’d like to work with you a lot but it’s all a bit much right now.” 

He looks at the Twi’lek, no, Ki’Quan. Her name is Ki’Quan, and he really looks at her and tries for a smile. It feels shaky on his lips and she cocks her head, looks at him from underneath long lashes. Her blue eyes hold a soft look. She looks friendly, he thinks, but now that he knows she’s been chosen to be his bodyguard, he sees beyond her relaxed posture and bare skin. She’s not as muscular as the Zabrak nor is she scarred. No visible tattoos, either. And yet. She’s sinewy rather than slender, with legs that look strong rather than shapely (but they’re shapely, too, but shapely as in, make sure not to be within in kicking range) and her fingernails are short and not painted. The only extravaganza is the headdress she’s wearing, half helmet, half lekku decoration.

“Will you be following me wherever I go?” he asks her.

She shakes her head. “I will not,” she says. “You are not being placed under observation. I will follow you when your job takes you to places that have been labelled unsafe for civilians and I will stand guard over you when you are alone. With your partner by your side,” she nods at Matt, “beings will think twice before approaching you in an unwanted manner. Most of the time you won’t even see me. But you will be outfitted with a panic bracelet so you may call for me at all times.”

“A panic bracelet?”

Lorcan holds up his right and pulls down his shirtsleeve to expose a slim metal bracelet around his wrist. “It’s a bracelet that has a panic button on it. You press it when you fear a situation is about to occur and your bodyguard will be alerted.”

“Oh.” He looks at Matt who has pulled his brows together and appears to be in deep thought. “Matt?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think?”

“I think—” Matt takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I need time to think.”

“Why don’t you come back the day after tomorrow,” Lorcan suggests. “That should give you some time to talk things through, weigh up the pros against the cons. There’s no need to rush into anything. Now,” he gets up. “Anybody up for some real drinks? And some food?”

“I could eat something,” K says and Lorcan raises his eyebrows.

“You can always eat. I was addressing our guests.”

“Thank you, General, but I’ll have to respectfully decline,” Kelenn says politely. “There is something I need to take care of and it cannot wait until tomorrow.”

It’s the first time she’s spoken since Matt and Techie have arrived and her voice matches her looks, Techie thinks. It’s low and a little hoarse and it reminds him of a growl. But her Basic is clear, without even a hint of an accent, and her tone is professional.

“So do I,” Ki’Quann adds. “But I thank you for your kind invitation.”

“Very well,” Lorcan says and steps back to make room for them. 

Kelenn and Ki’Quann rise from the couch but when Matt moves as if to follow them outside, Techie grabs his arm. 

“Wait,” he says urgently. “I need to speak to K.”

Matt shakes his head but for once, Techie remains adamant. 

“Please. It’s a matter of importance.”

“Sure,” K says. “What is it?”

“Alone, please. I need to speak to you alone.”

K looks at Matt who shakes his head again, more vehemently this time, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re not going to stop me, Matt,” Techie says. “You know how important this is to me.”

After a brief staring contest (Techie almost always wins these because he doesn’t have to blink as often) Matt sits back down and hangs his head. “I don’t like it, love.”

“Neither do I.” Techie reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “But you know it must be done. Please understand, yes?”

“All right,” Matt says in a flat voice. “If you think it’s really necessary.”

“It is.” He turns to K. “Is there a room where we are undisturbed?”

“My study,” K suggests. “We’ll be alone there. Hux!” he shouts. “Techie and I are in my study. Keep Matt company, yeah?”

“I’m not deaf,” Lorcan says, coming back in. “No need to yell.” 

Techie follows K into his study, hears Lorcan offer Matt something to drink, hears Matt decline and feels Matt’s eyes between his shoulder blades like beacons calling him back. But he won’t. But when the doors slide close behind him, he exhales shakily.

K motions for him to sit down on the low couch to the right and sits next to him, but keeps a distance as if he knows he’s making Techie nervous. Which he does. And very much so. Techie looks around him, trying to keep his rising panic in check. K’s study is different from what he’s expected. It’s more of a meditation chamber with an assortment of flat cushions on the floor, the couch they’re sitting on and a narrow desk with one computer terminal to the left. Nothing suggests he’s ever using the desk or the computer. There’s absolutely nothing on the table. Even Lorcan has things on his desk—pens, files, comm devices…

“What can I do for you?”

It’s now or never. Techie takes a deep breath.

“Matt says you’re a mindreader. Is that true?”

K narrows his eyes. “Not precisely,” he carefully replies.

“But you can look into somebody’s mind?”

“I can, yes.”

“Would you look into mine?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

_Come on, tell him._

“I must have been through something terrible before I got here.”

“What do you mean, you must have been? Do you not know?”

“Yes. And no.” He clenches and unclenches his fists. “You see, I got here a little over two years ago but I can’t remember how I got here. I woke up in a medcentre and my mind was blank. I couldn’t remember anything. I mean, I remembered how to walk and talk and everything about computers, but it’s as if the years between my seventeenth birthday and waking up here are mostly gone. Not all gone, though. I do remember things. Terrible things most of the time and I’m scared and I know I must hide and not be seen. But I don’t get it all together in my head and I don’t want to. I think it’s all shrouded for a reason, like I’m not supposed to remember before the time is ready, you know? But now there is Matt and I love him, you see, and Matt, he must know things so he understands me better. I think he loves me back but you know him and you know that sometimes some things are difficult for him to understand.” He knows he’s beginning to mumble, speaking too fast and without intonation but if he stops now he’ll never pick up the courage to go on. “I mean, he’s not stupid or anything, far from it, he’s really smart and he knows a lot of things but being afraid, you know, that wouldn’t occur to him. Nor do I think anybody would ever think of snatching him off Sunlight Plaza in broad daylight like they snatched me, and in front of my friends, too, and now it’s all gone and I can’t remember and I don’t know how to tell him—”

“Whoa,” K interrupts him and reaches for his hands. “Don’t do that.”

It’s only now that Techie notices he’s begun scratching at his forearms, the way he used to do when—

“Shhh.” K’s hands close over his and they’re big, K’s hands are, bigger than Matt’s but then, everything about K is bigger and broader, but his eyes are warm and friendly and Techie stops hiccupping. “There you go, that’s better.” He lets go of Techie’s hands. “Want me to fetch you a glass of water or something?”

“No. Please, K…”

“It’s Ben, Techie. My real name is Ben Solo.”

“See,” Techie says, “that’s what I mean. You have a real name, and Lorcan has gone from Armitage Hux to being Lorcan Dale again—”

“How do you know about Hux?”

“I ran a search for him when I first met Matt because Matt—” he breaks off. He was just about to tell K about Matt’s crush on him and that wouldn’t be right. Matt doesn’t know Techie knows and Techie doesn’t plan to tell him. He was a little hurt at first, scared of losing Matt to this mysterious training partner but he’s not scared of losing Matt any longer. “He wasn’t hard to find and you just called him Hux, too, before we came here,” he says instead. “But I wasn’t sure about you.”

“Maybe it’s better that way. So, what’s this about names?”

“I don’t have one, you see. Well, I do have a name but I can’t remember. ‘Techie’ is not a real name. It’s what I do and what people call me when I’m working. I’m a technician, techie, but it’s not my name. I want to hear Matt say my name but I can’t remember. It’s gone, K. Ben. It’s all gone. I should be the one who names himself No-One because that’s what I am. No-one.”

Ben sits back and looks at him. 

“You are not no-one,” he says. “But I understand what you’re saying. So, what is it you want me to do?”

“I want you to get inside my head and look at what’s happened and find my name. Please.”

“I’m not a mind-healer,” Ben gently points out. “I can’t fix you.”

“I don’t want you to fix me. I just want you to have a look around and then tell Matt what you’ve seen. I want things to remain locked away for now until I’m ready. But Matt must know so he understands better. But I really, really want my name back and if you could do that, I will do everything you ask of me. I will sleep before Lorcan’s office if that’s what he wants. Just, will you do that for me, please?”

He doesn’t care if he sounds desperate because it’s what he is. Desperate.

Ben looks taken aback at the urgency in his voice and for a long, horrible moment Techie is afraid he’ll kick him out. Instead, he slowly nods.

“I understand,” he says again. “And I will do what I can. But I can’t promise anything.”

“I don’t expect you to. I’m grateful you’re making time for me.” If only he would start already. Techie can feel his courage begin to fade away and he blinks nervously. “Only…it’s not going to hurt, is it?”

“No.”

And it doesn’t. Techie wasn’t sure what to expect but it sure wasn’t that. Ben gently touches his fingers to Techie’s temples but there’s no headache, no dizziness, no feeling of someone else trying to take over his head. Just…warmth. He feels warm all over as he stares into Ben’s eyes, feels secure and protected and it feels nice, actually. Matt makes him feel protected, too, but this is different. This is knowing no-one will ever do anything to him against his will and he’s safe from his own memories until he’s ready to face them. He feels his breath slow down, feels his heart beat in his ribcage, slow, steady beats. 

As his eyes remain fixed on Ben’s, he notices a change in them. Ben’s eyes are of a dark, warm brown but they’re now changing colour, turn from brown to a yellowish red. Or is it a reddish yellow? It’s like when you stare into a flame for too long and you can’t figure out what is white, what is yellow, what is red, what is blue. It’s scary but at the same time, it’s not. It’s not directed at him. Techie’s done nothing wrong. Ben is angry at something he sees but it’s not Techie’s fault. Nothing is his fault and there is no reason to be afraid any longer.

He takes another deep breath but it’s all good now. He feels light, carefree even and he smiles at Ben whose eyes have gone back to brown.

“Thank you,” he says. “Did you find enough to tell Matt?”

Ben nods, clears his throat and blinks. Are those tears? Techie isn’t certain but it can’t be. It shouldn’t be. Surely his memories aren’t that horrible, are they?

“I found what’s hidden away,” he confirms. “And I hope you will forgive me but I added another layer to your wall of protection. You have my word I’ve not taken anything away and you will be able to access this part of your memory. Just…not quite yet. I beg your forgiveness for taking that liberty but it’s better that way, for now.”

“But you will tell Matt?”

“I will tell him all he needs to know. But for you, I have this.”

This time, Techie feels him enter his mind but what he leaves behind makes Techie shout with joy and now it’s his eyes that fill with tears. Sloppy as the eye surgery was, his tear ducts were not harmed in the process and Techie is grateful for that. No need for artificial moisturiser, see. He wipes the tears away, carefully.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you, Ben.”

 

He sits in the armchair Ben’s occupied earlier and tries to focus on what Lorcan is telling him but he can’t. Matt’s been with Ben for about half an hour now and there’s no sign nor sound of either of them. Techie fidgets, crosses his legs, uncrosses them, doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Then, there’s a sound coming from behind Ben’s door. It’s more of a cry really, something only a wounded animal will utter. Techie jumps up, wants to make for the study, but Lorcan’s jumped up just as quickly and hold his arm in an iron grip.

“Don’t,” he says. “Matt is with Ben, and Ben knows pain. Knows it only too well, in fact. He’ll know what to do.”

There’s a scream. A horrible, horrible scream, full of pain and rage, and then there’s rumbling and a _thud_ , as if furniture is being turned over, and then…nothing.

Techie wraps his arms around himself and sits down heavily as his knees give.

“What have I done?” he whispers. “Oh no. My poor, poor Matt.”

“You’ve shared your burden,” Lorcan calmly says. “That’s a brave thing to do.”

“I didn’t do anything. Ben did.”

“You opened up and took a leap of faith. That’s the hardest part, believe me. Carrying your shit around all by yourself is one thing, but to let your partner in is quite another.”

“Do you and Ben—I mean, have you…” How can he ask that without overstepping a border?

“Yes. And I’m only beginning to understand what he’s been through. Never again. Over my dead, cold body. I swear it.” His voice sounds like ice as he says it.

Techie doesn’t know what to add to that and hangs his head, busies himself with his fingernails. He walked past a nail studio the other day. Maybe he should treat himself to a manicure as soon as he’s made up his mind about what to do with all of this that’s happened tonight. Lorcan has nice hands with slim fingers, nails clipped short and not a single hangnail. Yes, a manicure is a good idea.

Then the door to Ben’s study opens and Matt and Ben appear. Matt rushes, no, runs over to where Techie sits, stumbles and lands on his knees before him. He’s not wearing his glasses and his eyes are red-rimmed and puffed up. Techie reaches for his face, frames the beloved features with his hands, slips out of the armchair to kneel before Matt, showers his face with kisses. Out of the corners of his eyes he sees Ben and Lorcan make a tactful retreat to another room, leaving them to themselves.

Matt buries his face in the curve of Techie’s neck and cries, wraps his arms around him and holds him in a near-choke until his crying stops. 

“Your shirt,” he croaks, “I ruined your shirt.”

Techie looks down. His shirt is soaked with Matt’s tears but it’s not ruined. Far from it. 

He kisses Matt’s lovely eyes, the left one, the right one. Kisses his nose, smoothes his curls back and kisses his forehead, kisses his cheeks and his beautiful, perfect mouth that is so soft and that he likes to feel more than anything else. Matt blinks at him and reaches blindly for his glasses, can’t find them. Techie looks up and around. There they are, on the low table. He reaches for them and pushes them onto Matt’s nose.

“You are so beautiful,” he says. “Do you even know how much I love you, Mattie?”

Matt’s lips tremble and he blinks some more.

“I love you more, my sweet, precious love. My Techie.”

Techie places a finger on his lips, smiles a smile so wide it should make his facial muscles protest. Only, they don’t because inside, he’s singing. No, jubilating and dancing because—

“It’s Sionn, Matt. My name is Sionn Gaerion.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time Techie got his own name, right? I did a looooot of googling and tried this and that, and I settled for Sionn Gaerion because I liked it best.  
> 'Sionn' is an Irish name and I found it here: https://www.babynames.com/name/sionn.  
> 'Gaerion' is a made-up name that consists of the Sindarin word 'gaer' which means 'copper-coloured', and the Sindarin suffix '-ion' which usually means 'son of'. Oh, and Sindarin is the language of the Grey-Elves of Middle-earth. I had to add a grain of my other major fandom ;-)


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